. 


Showing  jCocation  of  the 
City  of  Six. 

and 

Surrounding  Country 


THE  CITY  OF  SIX 


What  Ranee  said  has  been  said  over  and  over  since  the  creation.' 


THE  CITY  OF  SIX 


BY 

CHAUNCEY  L.  CANFIELD 

Author  of  "The  Diary  of  a  Forty-niner,"  etc. 


With  Five  Illustrations  by 
JOHN  W.   NORTON 


CHICAGO 

A.  C.  McCLURG  &  CO. 
1910 


COPYRIGHT 

A.  C.  MCCLURG  &  Co. 

1910 

Published  March  19,  1910 
Entered  at  Stationer*'  Hall,  London,  England 


R.  R.  DONNELLEY  &  SONS  COMPANY 
CHICAGO 


PUBLISHER'S   NOTE 


THE  author  of  "The  City  of  Six"  passed  away  in  San 
Francisco,  November  20,  1909,  a  few  days  before 
the  first  proofs  of  his  story  reached  him.  Mr.  Canfield 
was  born  in  Litchfield,  Conn.,  January  7,  1843.  While 
yet  a  school  boy  he  went  to  California  to  join  his  father, 
who  was  one  of  the  early  Argonauts,  and  with  him 
worked  claims  and  mines  in  Mariposa  County.  In  the 
early  '80's  he  was  engaged  in  the  newspaper  business 
in  Nevada.  In  the  summer  of  1884  he  came  to  Chicago 
and  secured  a  position  with  The  Chicago  Times,"  on 
which  journal  he  performed  the  duties  of  railroad  editor 
and  art  critic.  In  1891  he  went  to  San  Francisco  and 
was  appointed  general  agent  for  the  Pacific  coast  for 
one  of  the  largest  railway  systems  in  the  West,  and  this 
position  he  held  at  the  time  of  his  death.  His  boyhood 
association  with  the  hills  and  valleys  of  California, 
together  with  his  literary  instincts,  peculiarly  fitted  him 
for  writing  on  pioneer  and  mining  life,  and  a  great 
many  short  stories  have  come  from  his  pen,  besides  the 
well-known  book,  The  Diary  of  a  Forty-niner." 
The  City  of  Six"  is  his  most  ambitious  story,  and  one 
that  he  had  been  working  on  for  several  years. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

I  "THE  CITY  OF  Six"   .     <     .    ......     .     .  9 

II  RICH  DEPOSITS  OF  GOLD 19 

III  THE  CHRISTENING  OF  THE  CAMP      .     .      .      .  30 

IV  WINTEB  AND  ITS  ENJOYMENTS     .     ;     .     .      .  41 
V  STUDY  AND  WORK       .     .      .     .     ;  .  .      .      .  49 

VI  THE  GIANT  NUGGET  .     .     .     .     .    -.;    ...  58 

VII  THE  LYNCHING     ...........  69 

VIII  THE  CITY  OF  Six  GROWS      ......  75 

IX  RUTH  PROVES  A  TREASURE  TO  THE  CAMP  .      .  90 

X  RANGE  MAKES  SOME  NEW  FRIENDS       ...  98 

XI  MIKE  is  A  MODEL  MINE-MANAGER       .      .      .  109 

XII  RANGE'S  GAMBLING  FRIEND  VISITS  THE  CAMP.  116 

XIII  WAKEFIELD  AND  HIS  FAMILY  ARRIVE    .      .      .  129 

XIV  MRS.  WAKEFIELD  AND  DOT  ENJOY  CAMP  LIFE  148 

XV  RANGE  ESCAPES  FROM    ROBBERS  AND  FALLS 

IN  LOVE .      .  159 

XVI  BRANT  AND  MRS.  WAKEFIELD  BECOME  FRIENDLY  174 

XVII  A  WEDDING  IN  HIGH  LIFE 189 

XVIII  WAKEFIELD  is  HIMSELF  AGAIN 202 

XIX  HALF-FORMED  PLANS 214 

XX  A  GAMBLER  IN  LOVE 226 

XXI  SPORTSMEN  AND  SPORTING  249 


CONTENTS  —  Continued 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

XXII  THE  RACES 265 

XXIII  MRS.  WAKEFIELD'S  ELOPEMENT 279 

XXTV  FINDING  THE  LOST  SHEEP 289 

XXV  WAKEFIELD'S  PURPOSE  OF  REVENGE     .      .      .  303 

XXVI  Dor's  MARRIAGE  AND  OTHER  MATTERS      .      .  309 

XXVII  WAKEFIELD'S  PREPARATIONS  FOR  VENGEANCE  .  320 

XXVIII  WAKEFIELD  EXTERMINATES  THE  GANG  .      .      .  330 

XXIX  REUNION  OF  MR.  AND  MRS.  WAKEFIELD     .     .  342 

XXX  HALCYON  DATS  353 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


PAGE 

What  Ranee  said  has  been  said  over  and  over  since 
the  creation."    ...          ....  Frontispiece 

"He  drew   them  up  in  a  row,   facing  the    sack,  and 

whisked  the  covering  away."    .        .        .        .        .        60 

"When  a  turnout   was  made  to  pass   the   big  freight 

wagons  with  their  string  of  mules.  "         .  -     .        .      144 

' '  As  Ranee  rose  and  toasted  the  wedded  pair.  "    .        •      196 

"Drawing  a  revolver,  he  sped  a  bullet  after  the  retreat- 
ing trio."  .     ,  i 332 


THE  CITY  OF  SIX 


CHAPTER   I 

"THE  CITY  OF  six" 

"VTOW,  there  was  a  name  to  conjure  with.  It 
seemed  to  imply  a  story,  or  at  least  that  its 
sponsors  in  departing  from  the  commonplace 
were  distinctive  in  their  ideas.  To  be  sure,  the 
region  round  about  teemed  with  odd  and  unique 
nomenclature.  Hepsidam  was  just  across  the 
ridge,  bordering  on  Hell's  Half  Acre,  with 
Whiskey  Diggings  in  close  proximity.  Jericho 
Flat  lay  between  Jerusalem  and  Gomorrah,  with 
Mount  Zion  looming  up  in  the  background,  while 
Brandy  City  and  Port  Wine  were  flourishing 
camps  in  the  immediate  neighborhood.  Fancy 
ran  riot  in  the  early  fifties,  with  a  tendency 
toward  the  vulgar  and  profane;  but  "The  City  of 
Six  "  was  distinctive.  Perhaps  when  one  learned 
that  Hog  Ravine  was  on  the  other  side  of  the 
slope,  and  that  the  city  was  built  on  a  high  pla- 

[9] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

teau  at  the  head  of  Slug  Canyon,  there  appeared 
in  this  name  a  certain  incongruity,  a  refinement 
not  altogether  in  harmony  with  the  practical 
ideas  of  its  neighbors.  Over  at  Hepsidam  the 
dwellers  referred  to  it  as  "the  camp  of  half  a 
dozen  jackasses,"  which  they  quickly  abbreviated 
to  "  Jackassville " ;  and  it  must  be  confessed  that 
the  place  was  better  known  by  that  name  than  by 
the  one  given  it  by  its  founders. 

The  beauty  of  its  site  could  not  be  vulgarized 
even  by  the  irreverent.  A  bench  of  a  dozen  acres 
of  level  ground  overhung  the  head  of  the  canyon, 
on  the  edge  of  which  one  could  stand  and  cast 
a  stone  into  Downieville  on  the  river  bank  two 
thousand  feet  below.  And  straight  across  on  the 
other  side  the  curling  smoke  from  the  cabin  chim- 
neys of  the  town  of  Monte  Cristo  was  visible. 
The  formidable  Sierra  Buttes  crowned  with  eter- 
nal snow  —  the  culminating  heights  of  the  range 
— loomed  up  grandly  to  the  view.  The  ridge  in 
the  background  climbed  to  an  added  altitude  of 
seven  hundred  feet,  clothed  with  giant  pines,  im- 
pressive in  the  majesty  of  their  growth  and  telling 
of  the  ages  that  had  passed  during  which  the  soli- 
tude had  been  unvexed  by  the  presence  of  man. 
But  that  was  of  the  past.  The  lure  of  gold  had 

[10] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

brought  an  invasion,  and  in  the  deep  gorges,  in 
the  profound  canyons,  and  on  the  hills  and 
mountain-sides,  an  army  of  toiling  humanity,  like 
busy  ants  and  as  insignificant,  was  unceasingly 
active  in  scarring  nature  with  work  and  waste. 

To  this  spot  a  half-dozen  pioneers  had  found 
their  way.  They  had  drifted  together  down  on 
the  North  Fork  and  had  mined  and  prospected 
up  the  stream,  pausing  to  test  a  bar,  a  ravine,  or 
a  promising  gulch,  until  in  1852  they  had  scaled 
the  steep  trail  to  the  head  of  Slug  Canyon,  where 
"ounce  diggings"  had  served  to  stay  their  wan- 
derings and  settle  them  permanently.  In  those 
nomadic  days  shallow  placers  were  soon  worked 
out,  and  gulches  and  ravines  quickly  exhausted. 
The  deep  diggings  of  the  buried  channels  came 
later  and  served  to  build  up  permanent  and  flour- 
ishing mining-towns,  which  took  the  place  of  the 
former  clusters  of  log  cabins,  the  rude  and  tem- 
porary habitations  of  the  early  pioneers. 

These  half-dozen  gold  seekers  had  found  fair 
reward  for  their  labor  on  the  head  of  the  eupho- 
nious Slug  Canyon,  and  had  also  discovered  that 
where  it  lost  itself  in  the  plateau  the  rich  streak 
kept  on,  and  that  the  gravel  followed  the  now 
level  bedrock  into  the  mountain.  This  was  a  new 

[11] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

problem  and  one  not  easily  solved,  although  it 
was  not  long  until  it  was  demonstrated  that 
ancient  rivers,  blotted  out  for  ages,  had  coursed 
through  old  channels  hundreds  of  feet  above  the 
bed  of  the  present  flowing  streams,  and  that  the 
yellow  gold  was  sifted  through  them  in  quantities 
that  yielded  fabulous  returns  to  their  exploiters. 
It  was  one  of  those  old  river-beds  that  they  had 
stumbled  on,  that  had  enriched  the  canyon  with 
a  portion  of  its  wealth  where  it  had  been  eroded 
out  by  the  North  Fork ;  and  the  canyon  was  now 
a  treasure-house  at  whose  door  they  were  knock- 
ing. Virgin  gold,  coarse  gold  in  profusion  in  the 
gravel,  and  theirs  for  the  gathering!  The  chill 
winds  of  autumn  betokened  the  approach  of  a 
Sierra  winter,  a  season  which  at  their  altitude  of 
four  thousand  feet  meant  a  blanket  of  snow  over 
mountain  and  hollow,  an  icy  breath  freezing  the 
tumbling  waters  of  the  canyon,  and  hurtling 
storms  that  would  drive  every  living  thing  to  the 
shelter  of  earth  burrow  or  a  migration  to  the 
more  temperate  lower  foothills.  There  was  grave 
consultation  among  the  Six.  Should  they  tem- 
porarily abandon  their  find  and  seek  the  comfort 
of  winter  quarters  that  Downieville  offered? 
There  were  many  tempting  distractions  in  that 

[12] 


THE       CITY        OF        SIX 

town:  hotels  where  square  meals  were  procur- 
able, fandango  houses  in  which  Mexican  girls  for 
the  price  of  a  drink  invited  brief  companionship 
in  the  dance,  gorgeous  gambling-houses  within 
whose  hospitable  doors  one  could  flirt  with  fickle 
Fortune,  and  a  church  with  a  high-priced  preacher 
and  a  sparse  congregation.  Ranee  Poole  voted 
for  Downieville  and  its  allurements.  Ranee  was 
the  youngest  member  of  the  aggregation,  a  Mis- 
sissippian,  who  for  love  of  adventure  had  left  his 
old  plantation  home  at  the  inception  of  the  gold 
fever,  and  bringing  with  him  two  likely  young 
darkies  from  whose  labor  he  reckoned  on  gather- 
ing a  golden  harvest,  had  reached  the  goal  just 
before  California  entered  the  Union  as  a  free 
State.  Naturally  the  bondsmen  repudiated  the 
bond,  and  Ranee  was  confronted  with  the  dire 
necessity  of  providing  his  own  living.  It  was 
either  gamble  or  work,  and  his  predilection  was 
for  the  first  named;  but  the  Goddess  of  Chance 
was  shy  and  fickle,  the  association  of  rough  pro- 
fessionals and  rude  desperadoes  not  exactly  to 
his  taste.  After  a  brief  career  as  a  sport  he 
turned  to  mining,  in  which  pursuit  he  had  had 
fair  success.  In  brawn  and  sinew  he  was  not  the 
equal  of  his  companions.  He  could  not  lift  as 

[13] 


THE       CITY       OF       SIX 

heavy  a  boulder,  nor  was  the  stroke  of  his  pick 
or  the  steady  rock  of  the  cradle  as  effectual ;  yet 
he  stuck  to  it  with  quiet  energy  and,  as  Mike 
Donovan,  the  rollicking  Irishman  of  the  party, 
put  it,  "  did  his  best,  and  who  the  divil  could  do 
more?"  After  a  time  he  assumed  the  functions 
of  cook,  and  here  he  really  excelled, —  that  is, 
after  a  brief  apprenticeship,  during  which  he 
learned  not  to  salt  his  beans  before  they  were 
well  boiled,  or  to  make  too  liberal  a  use  of  saler- 
atus  in  the  dough.  His  skill  with  the  rifle  kept 
the  camp  supplied  with  fresh  venison,  varied  with 
an  occasional  bear  rib,  while  squirrel  stews  were 
quite  common  in  the  camp  menu.  There  were 
times  when  the  absurd  inappropriateness  of 
his  occupation  disturbed  Ranee's  meditations. 
Busied  with  his  pots  and  pans  or  carefully  regu- 
lating the  heat  of  the  oak  coals  around  the  Dutch 
oven,  his  costume  a  woollen  shirt  and  duck  over- 
alls, he  could  not  help  contrasting  the  crudities  of 
the  present  with  the  refinements  of  his  former 
existence,  when  clothed  in  immaculate  linen  he 
lolled  on  the  broad  veranda  of  the  plantation 
home,  servants  at  his  beck  and  call,  eager  to  save 
the  young  master  from  every  exertion.  In  these 
self-communings  he  often  asked  himself  why  he 

[14] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

had  given  up  the  life  of  luxurious  ease  to  become 
one  of  the  "mudsills "  whom  he  had  been  reared 
to  despise.  Surely  the  "governor"  would  have 
considered  his  part  in  the  camp  duties  an  impossi- 
ble degradation,  and  a  horrified  mother  and  sisters 
would  have  been  utterly  incredulous  that  he  could 
stoop  to  such  menial  labor.  Not  only  provided 
with  a  liberal  education,  he  had  had  instilled  into 
every  fibre  of  his  being  the  belief  in  the  superior- 
ity of  the  men  of  the  chivalrous  South,  and  had 
been  reared  in  the  expectation  of  either  taking 
his  place  at  the  bar,  adopting  a  political  career, 
or  entering  into  a  matrimonial  alliance  that 
would  link  him  to  some  other  prominent  family 
and  annex  broad  acres  and  human  chattels  as  a 
compensation  for  the  relinquishment  of  his  care- 
less young  bachelorhood.  But  it  came  about  that 
legal  studies  failed  to  interest  him ;  there  were  not 
enough  offices  to  go  around  among  eager  aspir- 
ants of  the  same  ilk>  and  eligible  heiresses  did  not 
grow  on  every  bush.  Although  the  fertile  pater- 
nal lands  under  the  supervision  of  a  driving  over- 
seer brought  in  a  handsome  revenue,  it  did  not 
suffice  for  the  extravagances  of  the  possessors. 
The  cotton  bales  were  mortgaged  before  they 
reached  the  market,  the  increase  in  slaves  found 

[15] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

its  way  to  other  plantations,  and  as  time  rolled  on 
the  incumbrances  on  the  old  acres  grew  rather 
than  diminished. 

To  the  youngest  scion  of  a  prolific  house,  with 
sisters  to  be  portioned  and  elder  brothers  to  be 
provided  for,  it  was  not  an  alluring  prospect ;  and 
this  rather  pessimistic  view  had  been  the  chief 
incentive  to  a  leap  in  the  dark.  There  came  the 
rumors  of  a  new  El  Dorado,  where  the  rivers 
rolled  over  Pactolian  sands  and  riches  were  to  be 
had  for  the  gathering.  The  spirit  of  adventure 
woke  in  his  plastic  mind,  and  taking  his  two  body 
servants,  who  protested  their  fidelity  and  devo- 
tion to  Marse  Ranee,  he  made  the  weary  journey 
and  encountered  a  rude  awakening  at  its  finish; 
for  the  novelty  of  freedom  sponged  away  the 
loyalty  born  of  servitude,  and  Ranee  was  thrown 
on  his  own  resources. 

This  review  of  past  and  present  conditions, 
however,  did  not  depress  him ;  his  spirits  were  too 
buoyant,  he  was  too  healthy  a  young  animal  to 
allow  care  to  sit  heavily  on  his  shoulders,  and 
there  were  compensations.  His  share  in  the  re- 
sults of  the  mining  operations  was  fairly  good; 
the  summer  had  brought  him  a  couple  of  thou- 
sand dollars,  his  companions  were  congenial  and 

[16] 


THE       CITY        OF        SIX 

considerate,  his  task  as  cook  and  purveyor  was 
not  humiliating.  In  the  thousands  who  toiled 
among  the  surrounding  hills  and  gorges  there 
were  many  his  superiors  in  intellectual  attain- 
ments and  his  peers  in  gentle  breeding ;  and  in  the 
intervals  between  the  meals,  when  the  pot  could 
be  left  unwatched,  he  tramped  the  mountains 
roundabout,  ostensibly  hunting  fresh  meat,  but 
insensibly  a  young  pagan  rejoicing  in  vigorous 
manhood  and  conscious  health.  The  Red  Gods 
called  him  among  the  pines  and  on  the  steep 
mountain-sides,  and  he  followed  their  invitation 
until  the  lengthening  shadows  warned  him  that  a 
hungry  crew  would  soon  appear  over  the  edge  of 
the  plateau,  clamoring  for  the  evening  meal. 
Then  he  came  back  to  earth  again  and  gave 
his  mind  to  the  preparation  of  some  savory  dish, 
an  unexpected  dozen  of  mountain  quail  wrapped 
in  bay  leaves  and  a  slice  of  bacon  and  roasted 
over  the  glowing  coals;  a  succulent  camp  stew 
where  gray  squirrel,  salt  pork,  and  potatoes  ap- 
peased glorious  appetites ;  or  venison  steaks  fresh 
cut  from  the  carcass  of  a  doe,  hanging  on 
the  branch  of  an  oak  tree  close  by,  making  bull 
beef  a  despised  article. 

Fortunately  Ranee  was  spared  the  indignity 

[17] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

of  dish-washing.  It  was  a  rule  that  each  individ- 
ual took  care  of  his  own  particular  tin  cup  and 
plate,  and  in  order  that  no  confusion  should  arise, 
on  each  dish  was  scratched  the  initial  of  its  owner. 
At  least  once  a  week  they  were  scoured  with  wood 
ashes  to  bring  the  distinguishing  marks  out  of 
greasy  obscurity. 

In  that  bracing  mountain  air  and  daily  exer- 
cise of  muscle-hardening  toil,  "digestion  waited 
on  appetite, "  and  Ranee's  culinary  skill  received 
the  heartiest  approbation  of  his  partners.  Dur- 
ing a  week's  holiday  trip  to  Marysville,  Mike 
Donovan  had  been  installed  as  a  substitute,  but 
the  resultant  concoctions  were  so  atrocious  and 
unpalatable,  that  Ranee's  return  was  signalized 
by  an  enthusiastic  ovation  and  the  Irishman  rele- 
gated to  the  canyon  and  the  rocker.  "  Sure,  they 
have  all  been  living  too  high  while  ye  were  gone, 
and  what  they  want  is  common  grub.  What  I've 
been  giving  them  was  uncommon,"  was  Mike's 
comment  on  the  eagerness  betrayed  by  his  com- 
panions for  his  abdication. 


[18] 


CHAPTER   II 

RICH  DEPOSITS  OF  GOLD 

shallow  gravel  deposits  in  the  bed  of  the 
canyon  had  been  worked  out,  and  in  follow- 
ing the  rich  streak  into  the  mountain  they  were 
confronted  with  what  was  to  them  a  new  phase 
of  mining.  The  bank  rose  up  abruptly  to  the 
top  of  the  bench,  a  height  of  one  hundred  feet 
or  more,  while  the  bedrock  continued  on  into  the 
hill  almost  at  a  level.  It  was  evident  that  there 
was  but  one  method  by  which  it  could  be  mined, 
that  of  drifting  or  tunnelling  along  the  course. 
This  meant  a  change  from  the  simple  methods 
of  rocking  and  panning  which  had  heretofore 
served.  Doubtless  their  ingenuity  would  have 
been  equal  to  meeting  the  new  conditions  had 
they  been  called  on  to  exercise  it,  but  fortunately 
they  were  not  the  first  to  encounter  these  old 
channels.  Across  the  ridge  the  pioneers  had 
stumbled  on  these  "upper  leads,"  as  they  termed 
them,  and  at  Forest  City,  on  the  banks  of  Kan- 
aka Creek,  at  Chipp's  Flat,  and  at  Minnesota, 
the  Summer  of  '52  had  signalized  the  develop- 

[19] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

ment  of  the  ancient  river-bed,  and  a  busy  multi- 
tude of  toilers  was  exploiting  the  deep  diggings 
for  miles  along  the  old  channel  from  the  North 
to  and  across  the  Middle  Fork  of  the  Rio  Las 
Uvas  —  corrupted  into  the  "  Yuba  River." 

Given  an  aggregation  of  men  in  any  common 
pursuit,  some  one  in  particular,  either  by  asser- 
tion, fitness,  or  ability,  assumes  the  leadership; 
one  who,  after  the  pros  and  cons  of  any  question 
are  discussed,  gives  the  final  and  deciding  word. 
Our  little  company  of  half  a  dozen  had  not  been 
exempt  from  this  tendency,  and  had  tacitly  rec- 
ognized one  of  their  number  as  fit  to  direct.  The 
choice  was  not  unwise,  and  the  results  had  justi- 
fied the  selection.  He  was  the  dean  of  his  com- 
rades by  virtue  of  years,  and  their  superior  in 
a  certain  practical  knowledge  and  hard  sense. 
He  had  a  tactful  way  of  guiding  and  manag- 
ing their  affairs  that  avoided  the  irritation  of 
command  and  substituted  the  softer  method  of 
persuasion. 

Wakefield,  upon  whom  this  duty  fell,  was  a 
fine  specimen  of  the  typical  American,  a  well 
nourished,  farm-bred  giant,  over  six  feet  in 
height,  of  big  bone  and  hard  muscle,  trained  by 
outdoor  labor  to  the  condition  of  an  athlete,  a 

[20] 


RICH     DEPOSITS     OF     GOLD 

blue-eyed,  fair-haired  Saxon,  temperate  in  habit 
and  cleanly  in  thought.  On  the  mental  side  he 
was  neither  brilliant  nor  intellectual,  and  there 
was  none  of  the  poet  or  philosopher  in  his  make- 
up; or  rather,  any  latent  gifts  in  that  direction 
were  in  a  state  of  non-development.  The  daily 
clean-up  interested  him  to  a  greater  degree  than 
any  other  phase  of  his  life ;  and  the  incense  of  the 
bean-pot  appealed  to  him  more  pungently  than 
the  balsamic  breath  of  the  pines.  Born  at,  and 
arriving  at  manhood  on,  the  border  of  a  thriving 
village  in  the  interior  of  New  York  State,  he  had 
married  and  settled  down  to  the  hard  work  of 
a  small  farm,  until  the  breaking  out  of  the  gold 
fever  and  the  marvellous  tales  of  the  riches  of 
this  almost  unknown  Golconda  had  stirred  his 
sluggish  pulse  and  incited  him  to  adventure. 
Leaving  his  wife  and  a  little  girl  of  fourteen  — 
his  only  child  —  established  in  comparative  com- 
fort (he  had  sold  the  farm  and  bought  a  small 
cottage  within  the  village  limits,  where  with  a 
dependent  aunt  they  were  comfortably  installed) , 
he  was  one  of  the  first  to  journey  westward, 
arriving  in  '49  and  at  once  seeking  the  mines. 

In  the  lapsing  three  years  he  had  drifted  from 
one  locality  to  another,  as  the  twenty-four-foot 

[21] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

claims  were  worked  out;  panning,  rocking,  tom- 
ming,  on  bar  and  ravine,  in  gulch  and  canyon, 
always  mining  with  substantial  if  not  phenom- 
enal success,  and  as  a  result  seven  thousand 
dollars  was  to  his  credit  in  the  home  bank,  the 
surplus  above  the  expenditures  for  his  own  and 
his  family's  support.  Like  all  pioneers  he  was 
"going  back"  shortly  to  enjoy  the  fruits  of  his 
industry, —  an  intention  strengthened  and  con- 
firmed by  the  loving,  pleading  letters  that  came 
as  regularly  as  "steamer  day"  rolled  around. 
He  certainly  would  have  departed  the  present 
autumn  had  it  not  been  that  the  unexpected  de- 
velopment of  the  deep  diggings  gave  him  pause. 
Here  was  a  promise  of  substantial  wealth  far 
beyond  his  ambitions.  They  had  pierced  the 
mountain  only  twenty  feet,  and  the  yield  of 
Slug  Canyon  had  faded  into  insignificance.  The 
bottom  layer  of  gravel  was  rich;  along  the  bed- 
rock and  in  its  crevices  and  irregularities  nug- 
gets were  embedded  and  scattered,  coarse  gold 
that  turned  the  scale  to  the  half-ounce,  ounce, 
five  ounces,  and  on  the  last  day's  work  they  had 
done,  Mike's  pick  had  unearthed  a  beauty  as  big 
as  his  fist  —  which  was  not  a  small  one, —  a  white 
rock  seamed  with  gold,  which  when  broken  up 


RICH     DEPOSITS     OF     GOLD 

yielded  six  hundred  dollars.  Then  came  a  catas- 
trophe, for  the  next  morning  they  found  the 
gravel,  to  whose  solidity  they  had  trusted,  had 
given  way  and  the  ground  caved  to  the  end  of 
the  excavation.  Blessing  their  stars  that  they 
had  not  been  caught  in  its  treacherous  fall,  they 
brought  operations  to  a  full  stop,  and  consulta- 
tion and  projecting  was  in  order.  It  was 
recalled  that  passing  wayfarers  had  brought 
rumors  and  news  of  like  discoveries  over  the 
ridge,  and  it  was  decided  that  Wakefield  should 
make  a  journey  of  observation  and  see  how  the 
boys  on  Kanaka  Creek  met  the  problem. 

It  was  only  a  few  hours'  tramp,  and  a  couple 
of  days'  stay  with  the  hospitable  workers  at 
Minnesota  and  Alleghany  initiated  him  into  the 
method  and  science  of  timbering,  capping,  lag- 
ging, and  breasting  as  developed  up  to  that 
time,  and  also  demonstrated  that  the  inclemency 
of  a  Sierra  winter  would  not  prevent  work  being 
prosecuted  during  that  season  provided  neces- 
sary and  adequate  preparations  were  made.  On 
his  return  the  knowledge  gained  was  duly  im- 
parted to  his  comrades  and  discussed  in  all  its 
bearings,  and  a  final  conclusion  was  reached.  To 
stay  meant  practically  a  six  months'  isolation 

[23] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

from  the  world,  a  close  and  enforced  companion- 
ship, with  no  relaxation  afforded  by  change  of 
scene  or  distraction  to  relieve  the  solitude.  They 
had  toiled  through  the  summer  with  fair  results 
—  a  dividend  of  over  two  thousand  dollars  each 
having  been  declared, —  and  all  of  the  party  had 
anticipated  a  change.  Besides  those  already 
mentioned,  there  were  two  brothers  from  Ohio, 
healthy,  honest  plodders  with  no  particular  qual- 
ities to  distinguish  them  from  the  ordinary,  ex- 
cept an  unfailing  good  humor  and  a  ready 
acquiescence  in  Wakefield's  plans;  and  a  Texan, 
who  had  fought  in  the  war  for  Texan  indepen- 
dence and  campaigned  with  Doniphan  on  the 
border  and  through  the  Mexican  War. 

He  was  big,  slow-witted,  and  unlettered,  swore 
by  Colonel  Bowie,  despised  a  "Greaser,"  and  yet, 
having  been  the  hero  of,  or  actor  in,  many  mov- 
ing adventures  by  flood  and  field,  he  was  able  to 
beguile  weary  hours  in  recounting  his  participa- 
tion in  exploits,  hairbreadth  escapes,  bloody  en- 
counters, and  romantic  escapades  on  both  sides 
of  the  Rio  Grande.  Wakefield,  as  intimated, 
had  resolved  on  a  trip  to  his  old  home ;  and  Ranee 
Poole,  wearied  of  his  culinary  duties,  had  decided 
on  a  visit  to  San  Francisco  and  looked  forward 

[24] 


RICH     DEPOSITS     OF     GOLD 

to  a  resumption  of  broadcloth  and  fine  linen  with 
an  anticipatory  satisfaction  that  went  far  toward 
reconciling  him  to  his  labors  among  the  pots  and 
kettles. 

However,  even  he  was  dazzled  by  the  prospect 
of  wealth  that  the  new  discovery  promised,  and 
agreed  that  after  a  two  weeks'  holiday  at  Marys- 
ville  he  would  come  back  and  resume  his  duties. 
Mike  Donovan  stipulated  for  a  week  off  at 
Downieville,  which  meant  a  glorious  spree, — 
"Sure,  he  hadn't  drank  a  drop  for  a  six-month." 
Filling  up  his  buckskin  purse  with  gold  dust  to 
the  top,  he  struck  off  down  the  trail  to  the  town 
on  the  river,  where  many  seductive  whiskey  mills 
stood  with  open  doors  to  welcome  him  and  his 
like.  Ranee  also  took  his  departure  for  the  val- 
ley metropolis,  and  the  four  were  left  to  prepare 
for  the  winter's  campaign. 

There  was  an  abundance  of  preliminary  work 
confronting  them.  First,  the  temporary  shelters 
that  had  answered  well  enough  during  the  sum- 
mer were  entirely  inadequate,  and  substantial, 
warm  structures  were  a  necessity;  secondly,  a 
supply  of  poles  and  logs  for  timbering  the  drifts 
and  bracing  up  the  tunnels,  and  a  big  lot  of  fire- 
wood must  be  provided ;  thirdly,  and  not  of  least 

[25] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

importance,  a  six  months'  store  of  provisions  must 
be  laid  in,  including  simple  remedies  for  possible 
sickness  or  accidents,  not  forgetting  a  little 
whiskey  (they  had  been  singularly  abstemious 
during  their  association),  and  plenty  of  tobacco. 
The  weed  was  essential,  and  they  were  all  its 
devotees.  Labor  was  suspended  many  times  dur- 
ing the  working  days  for  a  brief  puff  from  the 
old  black  pipes,  the  length  of  the  siesta  after  the 
noon  meal  was  measured  by  the  consumption  of 
the  well-filled  bowls,  and  after  supper,  stretched 
under  the  spreading  oaks,  the  fragrant  smoke 
acted  as  a  sedative  to  tired  bodies  and  soothed 
the  unstrung  nerves. 

The  October  air  had  grown  suddenly  chill; 
the  soft  south  wind  that  had  tempered  the  sum- 
mer's heat  had  a  sharp,  stimulating  tang  that 
conveyed  a  sense  of  impending  change;  in  the 
morning  a  white  frost  blanched  the  yellow,  brittle 
grass,  and  a  flurry  of  snow  whitened  the  land- 
scape and  left  patches  on  the  mountain-sides 
where  the  sun's  rays  failed  to  reach.  The  length- 
ening shadows  of  the  shortening  day,  and  the 
falling  leaves  that  circled  and  sailed  in  the  breeze 
and  lodged  and  huddled  in  the  hollows,  were  re- 


[26] 


RICH    DEPOSITS     OF     GOLD 

minders  of  the  wane  of  the  year  and  impelled  the 
four  to  strenuous  and  extra  exertion. 

It  was  planned  to  build  double  cabins,  con- 
necting with  each  other  by  roof  and  an  enclosure 
some  twenty  feet  in  length,  in  which  could  be 
stored  dry  wood  and  a  goodly  supply  of  pitch- 
pine  knots,  mining  tools,  a  crude  bellows  and 
forge,  and  other  articles  that  would  be  dam- 
aged by  partial  exposure.  When  completed,  the 
structure  was  fifty  feet  in  length,  sixteen  in 
width,  and  twelve  in  height  to  the  eaves. 

For  better  protection  against  the  cold,  a 
double  roof  was  built  over  the  cabins  proper. 
The  pine  logs  out  of  which  the  building  was  con- 
structed were  squared  and  mortised  at  the  joints; 
a  stiff  adobe  mixed  with  pine  needles  to  hold  it 
together  —  a  crude  substitute  for  mortar — 
chinked  the  interstices  and  was  plastered  around 
and  over  the  boulders  that  built  up  the  chimneys. 

They  were  quite  proud  of  their  job  when  it 
was  completed,  and  it  certainly  was  an  advance 
on  the  usual  log-cabin  architecture.  In  the  mean- 
time they  had  been  reinforced  by  Donovan,  much 
against  his  will;  for  at  the  end  of  ten  days  he 
had  toiled  uj>  the  steep  trail,  not  to  resume  work, 


[27] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

but  to  replenish  his  depleted  buckskin  purse,  in 
order  to  renew  and  prolong  the  distracting  de- 
lights of  town.  He  had  had  the  time  of  his  life, 
as  was  testified  by  his  bleared  and  blackened  eyes 
and  sundry  cuts  and  bruises  resulting  from  ex- 
citing arguments  and  differences  of  opinion  with 
acquaintances  who  were  enjoying  like  relaxa- 
tions. Wakefield's  remonstrances  against  a  re- 
newal of  the  debauch  and  representations  of  the 
urgent  need  of  his  help  prevailed.  A  few  days' 
rest  and  abstinence  restored  his  vigor,  and  he 
was  soon  in  his  old  form  and  a  welcome  and 
valuable  recruit.  Orders  for  a  liberal  supply  of 
grub  were  placed  at  the  Downieville  store  and  a 
packtrain  of  jackasses  climbed  its  way  up  the 
steep  trail  laden  with  goods  and  provisions. 
These  included  a  half -ton  of  flour  and  several 
sacks  of  buckwheat  and  corn  meal  for  variety, 
fat  sides  of  bacon  and  a  barrel  of  pork,  a  hun- 
dredweight of  Chilli  beans  and  a  couple  of  bags 
of  rice,  boxes  of  yeast  powders,  canned  oysters, 
and  dried  apples,  sardines  for  a  Sunday  luxury, 
and  coffee  and  tea  ad  lib.  Paregoric  and  essence 
of  ginger,  quinine  and  pills,  court  plaster,  and 
five  gallons  of  whiskey  stocked  the  medicine 
chest ;  and  warm  woollen  shirts  and  canvas  trous- 

[28] 


RICH    DEPOSITS     OF    GOLD 

ers,  top  and  gum  boots,  suggested  warmth  and 
bodily  comfort.  When  these  were  packed  away 
in  their  proper  places,  the  flour  and  cereals  care- 
fully guarded  against  the  poaching  proclivities  of 
the  pestilent  wood  rat,  they  felt  as  if  they  were 
comfortably  provisioned  and  could  endure  the 
longest  and  severest  of  winters.  This  finished, 
trees  of  suitable  dimensions  were  felled  and  rolled 
to  the  edge  of  the  bank,  the  caved  dirt  cleared 
away,  the  cut  widened  and  the  sides  buttressed 
with  heavy  timbers,  making  a  covered  approach 
that  would  keep  out  the  snow  and  a  roomy  place 
to  frame  and  saw  the  sets  for  holding  up  the 
tunnel. 


[29] 


CHAPTER    III 

THE  CHRISTENING  OF  THE  CAMP 

rilHIS  preliminary  toil  had  consumed  a 
month's  time,  but  it  was  well  done,  and  while 
they  faced  almost  complete  isolation  it  would  be 
solitude  minus  hardship  and  exposure.  Nor 
was  there  a  sense  of  complete  detachment  from 
the  world.  The  waters  of  the  North  Fork  in  a 
deep  canyon  murmured  over  the  rocky  bed  seem- 
ingly almost  at  their  feet,  although  it  was  a  sheer 
descent  of  two  thousand  feet  to  its  level,  and  the 
roofs  of  the  clustered  buildings  of  the  important 
mining  hamlet  of  Downieville  could  be  glimpsed 
through  the  spaces  between  the  giant  pines  that 
grew  on  the  precipitous  mountain-sides.  Far 
up  on  the  north  bank  of  the  canyon  and  on  a 
level  with  their  own  dwelling-place  nestled 
Monte  Cristo,  aptly  named,  for  the  yield  of  the 
channel  was  the  reality  of  a  miser's  dream.  The 
crest  of  the  Sierra  Buttes  pierced  the  blue  at  a 
height  of  nearly  nine  thousand  feet,  not  more 
than  twenty  miles  to  the  east;  while  the  peaks 
of  Saddle  Back  and  Fir  Top  loomed  heaven- 

[30] 


CHRISTENING    OF    THE    CAMP 

ward  to  the  north.  From  their  own  camp  it  was 
an  ascent  of  four  thousand  feet  to  the  summit 
of  Table  Mountain;  and  Baldy,  a  thousand  feet 
higher  and  crowned  with  a  perpetual  snow-field, 
blocked  the  vision  beyond.  It  was  a  wilderness 
of  towering  peaks  and  profound  canyon  depths, 
of  howling  blasts,  blinding  storms,  and  a  tor- 
rential rush  of  mad  waters ;  and  yet  there  was  the 
knowledge  that  the  town  on  the  Fork  was  not 
inaccessible  in  an  emergency,  and  that  over  the 
ridge  there  were  neighbors  who  could  be  reached 
when  the  snow  packed  hard  enough  to  bear  a 
man's  weight.  In  fact,  it  had  been  planned  that 
at  least  once  a  week  one  member  of  the  party 
should  visit  Downieville  and  bring  back  the  mail. 
The  letters  from  home  were  prized  too  much  to 
permit  the  thought  of  being  deprived  of  the 
precious  messages  for  months,  and  periodicals 
were  also  a  necessity.  With  the  aid  of  snowshoes 
it  was  believed  that  the  trip  could  be  made  with- 
out much  difficulty,  a  belief  that  was  justified 
by  later  experience. 

The  storms,  barring  an  occasional  flurry,  had 
held  off  until  the  party  had  attacked  their  min- 
ing problem  in  earnest  and  the  five  were  busy 
driving  the  tunnel.  But  where  was  Ranee?  A 

[31] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

month  had  elapsed  and  nothing  had  been  heard 
of  him  or  his  whereabouts,  and  they  began  to 
be  somewhat  sceptical  as  to  his  return.  "Faith! 
he  wasn't  born  to  be  a  cook,"  said  Mike,  "and 
he's  tired  of  the  job,  although  he  was  a  janius." 
Their  own  efforts  had  not  been  entirely  satis- 
factory, and  they  missed  Ranee's  deft  skill  in  the 
concoction  of  palatable  and  savory  messes,  as 
well  as  his  light-hearted,  boyish  comradeship.  Still 
he  had  been,  so  to  speak,  born  to  the  purple. 
The  dullest  among  them  caught  a  glimmering 
of  the  incongruity  of  the  occupation  that  had 
been  thrust  upon  him  and  entertained  a  belief 
that  the  disgrace  of  it  had  been  so  borne  in  that 
he  was  willing  to  sacrifice  his  share  in  the  rich 
prize  rather  than  resume  the  menial  duties. 

They  were  mistaken,  for  one  afternoon  Ranee 
came  toiling  up  the  trail  and  was  received  with 
a  welcome  that  demonstrated  the  affection  in 
which  he  was  held.  But  what  a  change  there  was 
from  the  old  Ranee  —  this  thin,  worn,  pallid 
spectre  that  appeared  on  the  scene!  Had  he 
grazed  some  almost  mortal  illness  or  met  with 
an  accident  that  had  sapped  his  strength  and 
vigor? 

"Oh,  I  'm  all  right,  boys,"  he  exclaimed,  not- 

[32] 


CHRISTENING     OF     THE     CAMP 

ing  their  sympathetic  and  wondering  survey,  "or 
I  will  be  shortly;  but  old  Charon  had  his  boat 
ready,  and  I  came  pretty  near  crossing  to  the 
other  side  while  I  was  gone.  You  see,  I  got  into 
an  argument  at  Sacramento  with  a  damned 
hound, —  he  won't  argue  any  more  with  anybody 
this  side  of  hell, —  and  in  the  heat  of  it  he  put  a 
bullet  through  my  lung.  That 's  three  weeks  ago, 
and  I  had  little  hope  of  seeing  Slug  Canyon 
again;  but  it's  pretty  nearly  healed  up  now, 
although  it  took  about  all  the  strength  I  had  left 
to  make  the  top  of  the  trail." 

He  was  panting  for  breath  as  kind  hands 
assisted  him  to  the  cabin,  and  a  rest  revived  him 
sufficiently  to  enable  him  to  get  outside  and  view 
the  improvements. 

"My,  boys,  you  have  done  a  pile  of  work  since 
I  went  away,  haven't  you?"  he  said.  "This  is 
almost  as  comfortable  as  some  of  the  nigger 
quarters  on  the  plantation,  and  you  need  not 
take  any  offence  at  the  comparison,  for  we  took 
pretty  good  care  of  them.  How  is  the  claim? 
Who's  been  doing  the  cooking?  Has  Tex  been 
showing  you  how  they  messed  on  the  border?" 

He  rattled  on,  and  they  explained  that  the  one 
fly  in  the  honey  was  the  conduct  of  the  culinary 

[33] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

department;  and  while  of  course  he  was  not 
strong  enough  to  tackle  it  just  yet,  they  hoped 
with  his  advice  and  supervision  to  improve  it  at 
least. 

"Oh,  pshaw!  I  will  be  all  right  in  a  week;  the 
doctor  said  that  the  mountain  air  would  do  me 
more  good  than  medicine,  and  I  feel  better 
already.  But  say,  what  do  you  call  the  camp? 
This  is  altogether  too  pretty  for  '  Slugtown.' ' 

It  was  explained  that  more  important  matters 
had  claimed  the  attention  of  the  party.  "Slug 
Camp"  it  had  been  all  the  way  up  the  canyon; 
to  "Slugtown"  the  Downieville  traders  directed 
their  supplies;  and  really,  while  that  was  vulgar, 
prosaic,  and  not  at  all  felicitous,  still  "  Slug  Dig- 
gings" was  as  appropriate  and  possibly  more 
forcible  and  direct  than  many  of  the  coarse  and 
uncouth  names  borne  by  neighboring  settlements. 

To  this  Ranee  demurred. 

"Our  nest  is  altogether  too  grand  to  be  de- 
graded by  that  sort  of  thing.  Let 's  hold  a  coun- 
cil after  supper  and  think  up  something  more  in 
harmony." 

And  they  did,  gathered  around  the  big  fire- 
place. The  nights  were  stinging  cold;  a  huge 
backlog  glowed  in  its  ample  depths,  banked  by 

[34] 


CHRISTENING     OF    THE     CAMP 

resinous  pine  knots  and  oak  limbs;  the  cheery 
flames  leaped  up  the  chimney,  crackling  sparks 
coruscating  and  exploding  in  miniature  fire- 
works ;  the  bright  light  was  reflected  on  the  faces 
of  the  group,  illumining  the  features  of  the 
solemn  conclave  in  playing  lights  and  shadows, 
while  they  wrestled  with  the  problem  gravely  and 
seriously,  as  if  the  selection  would  have  an  occult 
influence  on  the  future  luck  of  the  place. 

Mike  broke  the  silent  meditations  with  a  sug- 
gestion that  smacked  of  his  native  city — "Dub- 
lin Flat." 

This  met  with  unanimous  objection.  "You're 
a  long  way  from  the  'ould  sod';  forget  you're 
Irish,"  said  Ranee.  One  of  the  Ohioans  offered 
"Grizzly  Hill";  but  there  were  already  innumer- 
able hills,  flats,  and  ravines  dotting  the  foothills 
from  Mariposa  to  Siskiyou  that  had  appropri- 
ated Bruin's  cognomen.  The  younger  brother 
feebly  advanced  "Buckeye  Camp,"  but  that  pos- 
sessed about  the  same  claim  to  originality.  Tex 
could  think  of  nothing  better  than  "Alamo"; 
but  that  ill-starred  battle  ground  was  a  misfit, 
although  Ranee  said  that  it  was  a  fight  for  inde- 
pendence,—  a  far-fetched  analogy.  "  If  I  should 
consult  my  feelings,"  he  added,  "when  I  reached 

[35] 


THE       CITY       OF       SIX 

the  end  of  the  steep  trail  this  afternoon  and  lay 
down  under  the  old  pine  by  the  cabin,  I  should 
say  '  Heavenly  Rest.' '  This  was  debated  at  con- 
siderable length  but  was  ultimately  rejected  as 
too  sentimental. 

"There  won't  be  much  rest  here  this  winter, 
anyway,"  remarked  Ranee,  "and  those  fellows 
over  at  Hepsidam  and  Jericho  would  turn  it  into 
'Hell's  Hollow,'  or  worse.  See  what  they  did 
to  '  Grassmead '  on  the  other  side  of  the  mountain. 
'Ain't  that  a  pretty  name  -for  a  pile  of  tailings 
and  a  worked-out  camp?'  said  an  irreverent  joker 
from  Chipp's  Diggings  to  his  companion  as  they 
were  passing  by  on  the  trail  that  bordered  what 
had  been  one  of  those  numerous  little  grass- 
grown  meadows  in  the  swale  of  the  mountains, 
but  which  had  been  upturned  and  overturned 
until  bare  bedrock  and  piles  of  boulders  were  all 
that  remained.  "Grassmead!"'  he  reiterated 
with  a  snort  of  disgust,  '"Hell's  Half  Acre" 
would  fit  it  better!'  The  name  stuck,  and  so  it 
was  known  from  that  time  on.  Come,  Wake- 
field,  it 's  your  ante." 

The  dean  smiled,  and  to  continue  the  simile, 
came  into  the  game,  and  words  of  wisdom  fell 
from  his  lips. 

[36] 


CHRISTENING     OF    THE    CAMP 

"Well,  boys,  there  are  a  half-dozen  of  us, — 
why  not  'The  City  of  Six'  ?"  There  was  no  dis- 
senting voice;  it  was  euphonious,  dignified,  and 
out  of  the  common.  There  was  poured  into  each 
tin  cup  a  dram  from  the  demijohn,  and  with 
libations  to  the  wood  gods,  the  camp  was  so 
christened;  so  it  remained  through  all  the  vary- 
ing fortunes  of  its  existence;  and  to  this  day, 
when  it  is  but  a  scarred  and  ugly  blot  on  the  land- 
scape, it  is  known  and  referred  to  as  "The  City 
of  Six." 

"That  is  off  our  minds,  anyway,"  soliloquized 
Ranee;  "but  after  all  it  is  pagan  land,  and  we 
are  pagans.  Some  of  these  mornings  you  will 
see  Pan  with  his  pipes  come  dancing  down  the 
glade ;  and  if  he  should  bring  a  few  nymphs  with 
him,  I  reckon  they  would  get  a  welcome." 

"It's  a  haythen  god  he  is,"  laughed  Mike; 
"and  if  it's  like  the  pictures  I've  been  seeing  of 
them,  and  that  poor  for  clothing  they  show,  if 
they  should  waltz  along  now,  it's  a  warm  pair 
of  breeches  Mr.  Pan  will  feel  the  want  of,  and 
woollen  petticoats  for  the  nymphs  as  you  name 
them.  It 's  Bacchus  I  'd  rather  see  coming  over 
the  trail." 

It  was  the  middle  of  November,  and  on  the 

[37] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

morrow  after  the  christening  earnest  work  began. 
With  only  a  vague  idea  of  the  details  of  the  task 
before  them  and  no  experience  in  drift  mining 
outside  of  Wakefield's  brief  observations  at 
Kanaka  Flat,  yet  not  doubting  that  they  could 
meet  and  overcome  any  difficulty,  with  confidence 
and  self-reliance  they  attacked  the  face  of  the 
hillside.  It  was  an  awkward  and  slow  process, 
and  the  results  of  each  day's  toil  were  painfully 
small  for  the  amount  of  hard  labor  and  muscle 
expended.  Ages  ago,  a  stream  had  curved 
through  the  channel  which  they  were  opening,  a 
tributary  to  a  mighty  river  that  had  been  sud- 
denly blotted  out  by  a  volcanic  overflow.  The 
long-extinguished  craters  of  the  Sierra  chain  had 
belched  out  torrents  of  mud  and  liquid  lava, 
choking  up  the  channels,  covering  the  hills  and 
valleys  with  a  blanket  of  fine  clay.  The  waters 
of  the  running  rivers  dried  up  from  the  heat  of 
the  fierce  fires  that  lighted  the  mountain  crests, 
the  molten  torrent  swept  down  from  the  peaks 
and  buried  beneath  the  overflow  the  ancient 
channels,  and  for  centuries  the  beds  remained, 
the  rounded  boulders,  pebbles,  and  sands  distrib- 
uted as  when  the  waters  rippled  over  them  or, 


[38] 


CHRISTENING     OF     THE     CAMP 

in  torrential  seasons,  dashed  and  eddied  earth 
and  rock  in  a  mad  rush  of  melting  snow  and  ice. 
In  the  lapse  of  uncounted  years  the  old  or- 
ganic remains,  the  leaves,  driftwood,  and  vegeta- 
tion, decayed  and,  uniting  with  the  iron  and  min- 
erals, had  cemented  the  gravel  into  a  mass  as 
hard  as  rock.  In  the  gradual  erosion  of  the 
quartz  veins  that  seamed  the  granite,  the  gold 
had  sifted,  rolled,  and  had  been  ground  in±o  par- 
ticles and  scattered  through  the  gravels  and  over 
the  bed  of  the  dead  rivers,  the  cataclysm  of  the 
volcanic  period  securely  locking  up  the  portals 
to  this  rich  deposit  until  the  lure  of  gold  betrayed 
its  hiding  place.  It  was  weary  and  almost  dis- 
couraging toil,  this  breaking  into  the  well- 
guarded  treasure  chest ;  for  the  cemented  gravels 
resisted  the  blow  of  the  pick  and  crowbar,  and 
carrying  in  a  tunnel,  seven  feet  in  height  and  of 
equal  width,  was  painfully  slow  in  progress.  At 
the  best  a  foot  per  day  was  about  the  limit,  but 
there  were  signs  and  indications  of  a  handsome 
reward.  The  gravel  for  two  feet  above  the  bed- 
rock paid  a  dollar  to  the  pan,  and  in  the  crevices 
of  underlying  granite,  nuggets  and  coarse  gold 
were  packed  away  in  stimulating  profusion. 


[39] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

In  the  parlance  of  the  time,  they  had  "struck  it 
rich"  and  smiling  Fortune  beckoned  them  on. 
Perhaps  they  were  approaching  that  ignis  fatuus 
of  the  pioneer,  the  much  discussed  and  sought- 
after  golden  stream  that  had  enriched  the  shal- 
lower places  below,  that  puzzle  of  a  thousand 
theories,  the  "Source." 


[40] 


CHAPTER    IV 

WINTER  AND  ITS  ENJOYMENTS 

OUDDENLY  came  the  cold  breath  of  winter 
choking  the  springs  and  solidly  freezing  the 
running  streams.  Masses  of  leaden,  dark,  omi- 
nous clouds  floated  in  from  the  south  and 
obscured  the  sky,  a  fierce  wind  swept  over  the 
mountains,  and  a  storm  broke  in  all  the  fury  of 
howling  gale  and  flying  snow.  For  days  the 
white  flakes  sifted  down  or  flew  before  the  tem- 
pest gusts,  so  completely  filling  the  air  that  the 
vision  could  penetrate  but  a  short  distance, 
choking  up  the  canyon  and  piling  big  banks  and 
deep  drifts  where  the  giant  tree  trunks  barred 
the  rushing  winds.  The  cabin  was  almost  buried 
out  of  sight,  and  the  way  to  the  tunnel  was 
blocked  by  a  depth  of  ten  feet  of  snow.  Then 
the  storm  ceased ;  the  clouds  rolled  away ;  the  blue 
sky  was  serene  above  them;  the  sun  shone,  and 
near  and  far  a  visible  world  stood  transformed, — 
a  colorless,  blinding  world,  save  and  except  the 
dark  foliage  of  the  pines  and  their  sombre  trunks, 
the  only  contrast  to  the  diamond-studded,  white 

[41] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

mantle  that  blanketed  mountain-peak,  hillside, 
and  canyon,  and  spread  a  glittering  robe,  spark- 
ling in  the  sunshine,  as  far  as  the  eye  could  see. 
It  gave  them  all  a  sense  of  loneliness,  an  op- 
pressive feeling  of  remoteness  and  isolation  re- 
lieved in  part  by  the  sight  of  the  ascending  smoke 
wreaths,  curling  up  from  invisible  chimneys  and 
vanished  town  on  the  river-bank  below.  There 
was  life  in  this  white  wilderness,  there  were  com- 
panions in  the  seeming  solitude,  and  then  the 
storm  did  not  interfere  with  their  work.  All  this 
had  been  foreseen  and  provided  for,  and  beyond 
cutting  a  path  from  cabin  to  drift  and  shovelling 
away  the  crushing  weight  on  the  roof,  there  was 
nothing  to  prevent  a  continuance  of  the  daily 
routine.  Their  only  privation  was  in  the  larder; 
fresh  meat  was  no  longer  a  part  of  their  diet, 
for  with  the  storm  disappeared  every  trace  of 
game  except  an  occasional  whirring  grouse  that 
broke  through  the  icy  crust  from  its  nest  under 
a  pine  log  and  sought  its  food  among  the  tree- 
tops.  The  pursuit  of  these  was  impracticable, 
as  the  snow  was  too  soft  and  deep  to  permit  a 
successful  following.  The  camp  settled  down  to 
beans  and  bacon  and  such  palatable  messes  as 
Ranee  —  who  had  fully  recovered  from  his 

[42] 


WINTER     ENJOYMENTS 

wound  —  concocted.  It  was  no  hardship;  their 
appetites  were  unlimited,  and  fried  oysters  — 
the  canned  variety  —  for  Sunday  morning  break- 
fast were  dished  up  fit  for  a  king,  and  rice  pud- 
dings, apple  duff,  and  other  toothsome  and  un- 
expected creations  testified  to  Ranee's  skill  and 
resourceful  art. 

Barring  one  or  two  incidents  it  was  a  most 
quiet  winter.  The  cabins  were  weather- tight, 
warm,  and  comfortable.  By  consent  Ranee  and 
Wakefield  occupied  one  wing,  utilizing  it  also 
for  kitchen  and  dining-room;  while  Mike,  Tex, 
and  the  brothers  bunked  in  the  other.  Their 
chief  amusement  was  an  interminable  series  of 
games  of  euchre,  the  score  religiously  kept  and 
with  varying  fortune.  It  really  did  not  much 
matter  which  side  was  ahead,  as  it  was  a  trial  of 
skill  with  no  stakes  at  issue ;  but  it  served  to  pass 
away  the  dull  evenings  before  early  bedtime, 
and  was  about  on  a  level  with  the  intellectual 
capacity  of  the  quartette.  On  the  other  side  of 
the  house  the  situation  was  somewhat  different. 
Ranee  had  had  all  the  advantages  that  school 
and  college  could  give,  and  that  comprised 
enough  to  carry  him  through  to  graduation 
creditably  and  with  honor.  This,  with  a  smatter- 

[43] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

ing  of  a  little  Greek  and  less  Latin,  bestowed 
upon  him  that  indefinite  but  certain  hall-mark 
of  a  gentleman,  so  far  as  such  standards  go. 
Truly,  in  knowledge  and  experience  he  was  but 
a  boy,  a  frank,  careless  youngster,  whose  pride 
and  cleanly  mind  had  disgusted  him  with  the  only 
career  that  had  seemed  to  open  to  him,  that  of 
professional  gambler,  and  —  paradox  of  choice 
—  to  bring  no  degradation  in  his  role  of  cook 
and  caterer.  To  be  sure,  it  was  not  for  hire ;  that 
would  have  been  impossible.  On  the  contrary, 
there  was  a  sense  of  superiority.  Any  one  could 
swing  a  pick  or  handle  a  shovel,  given  the  phy- 
sique; but  to  create  appetizing  and  unlooked-for 
results  from  common  material  —  that  was  beyond 
the  capacity  of  his  comrades  and  was  a  solace 
and  reward  for  what  otherwise  would  have  been 
a  menial  and  distasteful  occupation. 

On  the  other  hand,  Wakefield  was  of  a  differ- 
ent mould.  His  mental  machinery  worked  at  a 
slower,  if  perhaps  surer  stroke.  Self-reliant, 
self-willed,  and  self-contained,  he  arrived  at  con- 
clusions slowly  that  when  reached  he  held  to 
tenaciously.  He  was  too  charitable  to  others' 
opinions  to  be  charged  with  obstinacy,  and  always 
appeared  to  give  due  weight  to  them;  but  he 

[44] 


WINTER      ENJOYMENTS 

had  a  way  of  holding  to  his  beliefs  so  firmly  and 
yet  withal  so  modestly,  that  at  the  end  of  the 
discussion  his  views  were  usually  adopted.  The 
Little  Red  School-house  had  equipped  him  with 
the  elementary  schooling,  and  nature  had  en- 
dowed him  with  the  rare  gift  of  common  sense. 
Although  greatly  Ranee's  senior,  he  had  had  less 
contact  with  the  world,  a  narrower  range  to  draw 
from.  The  workings  of  his  mind  were  slow,  but 
facts  grasped  and  lessons  learned  were  retained; 
they  sank  deep  into  his  consciousness  and  there 
remained,  gradually  filling  a  mental  storehouse 
to  be  drawn  on  as  occasion  served.  Ranee's  bril- 
liancy and  youthful  spirits  attracted  him,  and 
insensibly  the  pair  had  grown  fond  of  each  other, 
an  affection  tempered  with  respect  and  mutual 
understanding. 

So,  on  this  side  of  the  cabin  the  atmosphere 
was  somewhat  different.  Not  that  good  com- 
radeship did  not  obtain.  There  was  the  supper 
together,  and  that  over,  the  inevitable  smoke, 
when  all  burnt  incense  in  the  black  bowls  of  their 
clay  pipes  and  filled  the  room  with  the  pungent 
odor  of  the  Virginia  weed.  It  was  during  this 
half -hour  that  the  happenings  of  the  day  were 
gone  over,  the  progress  and  development  of  the 

[45] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

tunnel,  the  prospects  for  an  early  spring,  the  con- 
jectures as  to  the  doings  in  neighboring  camps, 
varied  with  Mike's  recollections  of  droll  expe- 
riences in  which  Irish  wit  and  pugnacity  fig- 
ured, and  in  which  it  was  noted  he  always  came 
off  first  best;  or  Tex  revived  memories  of  the 
struggle  that  achieved  Texan  independence,  in- 
spired in  the  relation  to  an  uncouth,  rugged,  but 
most  convincing  eloquence.  This  over  and  the 
pipes  smoked  out,  the  quartette  retired,  and  with 
their  absence  the  pair  took  to  higher  conversa- 
tional flights. 

By  some  queer  freak  the  reading  matter  ac- 
cumulated in  a  haphazard  way  included  a  copy 
of  Shakespeare.  It  looked  out  of  place  along- 
side the  current  literature  circulating  in  the 
mining  regions  at  that  time.  Pioneers  will  re- 
member the  stock  that  the  newsman  added  to  his 
periodical  list,  and  the  quaint  odd-shaped  paper- 
covered  novels  issued  by  a  Philadelphia  publish- 
ing firm  which  seemed  to  have  a  monopoly  of 
the  California  trade.  The  most  popular  was  a 
series  by  one  G.  W.  M.  Reynolds,  under  the  title 
of  "The  Mysteries  of  the  Court  of  London," 
eight  volumes  which  shed  a  baleful  and  immoral 
light  on  the  secret  history  of  George  IV.  Then 

[46] 


WINTER      ENJOYMENTS 

there  was  "The  Count  of  Monte  Cristo."  Oh, 
great  Dumas,  how  many  weary  hours  of  the  "old 
boys"  your  fascinating  pages  changed  into  even- 
ings of  delight! — and  when  followed  by  "The 
Three  Musketeers"  how  they  clamored  for  each 
succeeding  book,  admiring  D'Artagnan,  loving 
Porthos,  giving  fair  homage  to  Athos,  and 
secretly  disliking  the  unfrocked  churchman, 
Aramis.  What  great  stories  they  were,  and  how 
it  seemed  as  if  the  romance  of  the  reigns  of  Louis 
XIII  and  Louis  XIV  were  not  out  of  harmony 
with  the  early  foothill  days !  How  few  know  of  or 
can  realize  the  indebtedness  that  the  Argonauts 
owed  to  the  elder  Dumas!  Dickens  was  in  the 
first  flush  of  the  success  of  "Pickwick  Papers" 
and  "  Nicholas  Nickleby,"  and  they  laughed  over 
the  quaint  Cruickshank  illustrations  and  the 
humor  and  oddity  of  the  text;  yet  despite  Bret 
Harte's  tribute,  Little  Nell  and  Smike  were 
somewhat  mawkish  to  their  tastes,  and  Paul 
Dombey  an  unnatural  prodigy.  Then  there  was 
a  weird,  melodramatic  tale,  "The  Monk,"  by 
one  Lewis  —  a  creepy,  powerful  story,  that  circu- 
lated through  the  mining  camps  in  hundreds  of 
copies,  and  Pollard's  "Quaker  City"  of  the  same 
ilk  and  popularity.  With  these  there  appeared 

[47] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

a  yellow-backed  literature,  "Dick  Turpin  and 
Black  Bess,"  "Sixteen  String  Jack,"  "The 
Highwayman  of  Hampstead  Heath,"  and  other 
tales  of  the  knights  of  the  road.  Like  the  early 
days,  these  exciting  stories  have  faded  into  ob- 
livion. That  was  the  sort  of  mental  food  they 
fed  on,  candle  alongside  the  bunk,  during  those 
lonely  nights,  and  were  none  the  worse  for  the 
diet. 


[48] 


CHAPTER    V 

STUDY  AND  WORK 

T  T  came  to  pass  that  the  hour  of  relaxation 
before  early  bedtime  was  given  up  to  a  study 
and  discussion  of  Shakespeare's  plays,  although 
neither  history  nor  romance  had  interested  or  ap- 
pealed to  Wakefield's  mind.  Casually,  one  even- 
ing Ranee  had  picked  up  the  book;  a  passage  in 
"The  Merchant  of  Venice"  caught  his  eye  and 
he  read  it  aloud  to  his  partner.  He  was  a  good 
reader,  possessed  of  a  deep,  rich,  sympathetic 
voice,  apt  in  dramatic  emphasis  at  the  right  place, 
and  the  words  fell  like  music  on  Wakefield's  ear. 

"  The  moon  shines  bright:  in  such  a  night  as  this, 
When  the  sweet  wind  did  kiss  the  trees 
And  they  did  make  no  noise,  in  such  a  night 
Troilus,  methinks,  mounted  the  Trojan  walls 
And  sighed  his  soul  toward  the  Grecian  tents, 
Where  Cressid  lay  that  night. 

"  In  such  a  night- 
Did  Thisbe  fearfully  o'ertrip  the  dew 
And  saw  the  lion's  shadow  ere  himself 
And  ran  dismayed  away. 

[49] 


THE       CITY        OF       SIX 

"  In  such  a  night 

Stood  Dido  with  a  willow  in  her  hand 
Upon  the  wild  sea  banks,  and  waft  her  love 
To  come  again  to  Carthage." 

Wakefield  walked  quietly  to  the  door,  threw  it 
open,  and  looked  up  at  the  stars.  The  crescent 
moon  hung  pendent  over  the  pine-tree  tops,  the 
moonbeams  sifted  through  the  foliage,  and  with 
the  zephyr's  breath  the  light  and  shadow  wove 
lacework  on  the  white  snow.  And  in  silence  he 
looked  and  looked  again  in  a  maze  and  whirl  of 
newborn  thought.  A  thousand  times  he  had 
gazed  without  emotion  to  skies  as  diamond- 
studded  and  the  same  pale  orb  of  light,  but  had 
seen  not.  The  harmony  of  the  words  had  served 
as  a  magic  formula  to  drop  the  veil  from  blinded 
eyes,  and  a  sense  of  hitherto  unknown  beauty 
was  conveyed  to  his  soul.  There  were  things 
unseen  that  needed  but  this  revelation  to  open  a 
new  world  and  from  that  night  Wakefield  sat 
at  the  feet  of  the  Stratford  bard  and  drank 
knowledge,  wisdom,  and  lore  from  an  inexhaust- 
ible fount.  Not  that  he  grasped  the  meaning 
of  it  all  at  once, —  his  mental  processes  were  slow 
and  laborious, — but  it  gradually  quickened  his 
intellect  and  awakened  him  to  the  knowledge  that 

[50] 


STUDY      AND      WORK 

"there  were  more  things  in  heaven  and  earth 
than  his  philosophy  dreamt  of."  While  Ranee 
did  not  participate  to  the  full  in  this  newborn 
enthusiasm  it  was  more  to  his  taste  than  the  re- 
laxations of  the  other  wing  of  the  house,  and 
he  readily  gave  his  evenings  to  the  reading,  inter- 
pretation, and  discussion  of  the  plays.  So  the 
winter  nights  were  passed  in  this  creative  literary 
atmosphere,  and  the  feuds  of  the  rival  houses  of 
Montague  and  Capulet,  the  wooing  of  Desde- 
mona,  the  sorrows  of  pitiful  King  Lear,  the 
melancholy  Dane,  fat  Jack  Falstaff,  and  the  rest 
of  those  immortal  beings,  were  "summoned  like 
spirits  from  the  vasty  deep,"  and  in  fancy  "strut- 
ted and  fretted  their  hour  upon  the  stage."  Be- 
fore that  winter  passed  Wakefield  had  enlarged 
his  horizon,  idealized  his  previous  gross  material- 
ism, and  rounded  out  a  completeness  of  life  un- 
dreamed of  before. 

This  was  only  the  by-play.  Ranee  had  fash- 
ioned a  pair  of  Norwegian  snowshoes  and  by 
practice  had  become  fairly  expert  in  their  use. 
Once  a  week  by  their  aid  he  visited  Downieville, 
got  the  mail,  bought  the  latest  newspapers  on 
sale,  made  a  little  pack  which  he  strapped  to 
his  back,  and  returned  to  the  "City."  It  con- 

[51] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

sumed  about  half  an  hour  to  make  the  descent 
and  six  hours  to  climb  back,  but  his  hardened 
muscles  responded  easily  to  the  task.  Everybody 
got  letters  except  Tex,  who,  according  to  his 
story,  with  the  exception  of  a  brother  whose 
whereabouts  were  unknown,  had  neither  wife, 
chick,  nor  relation  so  far  as  he  knew,  and  while 
at  times  envying  his  comrades  the  pure  pleasure 
they  got  from  these  home  missives,  consoled  him- 
self by  the  belief  that  when  he  had  made  his 
pile,  his  matrimonial  eligibility  would  be  so  en- 
hanced that  he  would  be  able  to  pick  up  a  prize 
if  so  minded. 

As  the  partners  became  more  accustomed  to 
the  new  phase  of  mining,  they  acquired  expert- 
ness,  and  by  the  middle  of  February  of  the  new 
year,  had  driven  in  their  tunnel  over  one  hundred 
feet  as  well  as  pushed  lateral  drifts,  or  crosscuts, 
to  the  boundaries  of  the  channel.  By  these  they 
discovered  that  the  old  river  had  an  average 
breadth  of  seventy  feet,  and  on  both  sides  the 
bedrock  rose  up  abruptly,  completely  cutting  off 
the  gravel  formation  and  filling  the  ends  of  the 
crosscuts  with  solid  rock.  They  had  also  caught 
on  to  the  knack  of  timbering,  and  supported 
the  ground  with  heavy  beams,  thus  preventing 

[52] 


STUDY      AND      WORK 

any  danger  of  a  cave-in.  Better  still,  there  were 
numerous  indications  that  they  were  in  good 
ground.  The  gold-bearing  stratum  averaged 
about  three  feet  in  thickness,  although  the  rich 
pay  streak  was  not  more  than  six  inches,  and 
the  best  of  it  all  lay  directly  on  top  of  the  bed- 
rock and  in  the  crevices  and  inequalities  of  the 
rock  bottom  of  the  old  river-bed.  The  half -foot 
averaged  a  dollar  to  the  pan,  while  from  the 
bedrock  itself  they  had  frequently  panned  out 
from  an  ounce  to  five  ounces  from  a  candle- 
boxful  (two  pans)  of  the  choice  scrapings.  Then 
they  had  picked  out  several  nuggets,  one  weigh- 
ing four  ounces;  and  one  of  the  Ohioans  ran 
across  a  quartz  boulder  as  big  as  his  two  fists, 
that  was  seamed  through  and  through  with  thin 
veins  of  gold.  This  they  had  put  aside  as  a 
specimen  without  attempting  to  break  it  up  and 
ascertain  the  value  of  its  contents.  It  afforded 
them  some  amusement  in  the  way  of  a  guessing 
match  as  to  its  probable  yield,  ranging  all  the 
way  from  fifty  to  two  hundred  and  fifty  dollars. 
It  was  finally  agreed  that  each  should  put  his 
name  and  a  figure  on  a  piece  of  paper,  place  it 
in  a  sealed  envelope,  and  in  the  spring  they  would 
take  the  boulder  to  town  and  apply  the  specific 

[53] 


THE       CITY        OF        SIX 

gravity  test,  the  one  nearest  the  mark  to  keep 
the  boulder  for  his  own. 

Beyond  a  lay-off,  the  holidays  had  gone  by 
unnoticed.  Mike  took  a  three  days'  vacation  at 
Christmas  and  came  back  vowing  that  he  had 
disgraced  himself,  having  indulged  in  neither 
shindy  nor  spree,  neither  had  he  gorged  himself 
with  square  meals  at  the  hotels. 

"Faith,  they  haven't  got  any  more  variety 
than  we  have,  and  in  the  matter  of  cooking, 
Ranee  can  give  them  cards  and  spades  and  then 
bate  them." 

His  excuse  for  not  falling  into  temptation 
was  characteristic. 

"Sure,"  he  said,  "I'm  getting  to  be  a  solid 
man,  what  with  the  share  that's  coming  to  me 
and  what  I  already  hev  stuck  away  in  a  few 
ould  yeast-powder  cans.  It  doesn't  become  me 
as  a  capitalist  to  be  squandering  me  gains  for  the 
benefit  of  a  lot  of  blood-suckers  and  gin-mill 
keepers.  Besides,  it  would  be  a  reflection  on  the 
good  name  of  'The  City  of  Six.'  If  we  had 
called  it  'Dublin  Flat,'  as  I  mintioned,  a  trifle 
of  liquor  would  go  well  with  the  name,  but  as  it 
is,  I  '11  give  the  whiskey  the  go-by  for  the  prisent. 
Mind  ye,"  he  thoughtfully  added,  "I  promise 

[54] 


STUDY      AND      WORK 

nothing  for  the  spring  except  if  I  don't  touch 
it  for  six  months,  why  should  I  for  six  years,  if 
I  be  so  minded?" 

The  fact  was  that  Mike,  whose  sprees  had  been 
more  a  question  of  good-fellowship  with  chance 
acquaintances  than  a  taste  for  liquor  itself,  had, 
when  he  found  himself  on  the  road  to  wealth,  in- 
dulged in  serious  reflections  as  to  the  future.  He 
was  a  shrewd  Irishman  and  the  prospect  of  in- 
dependence financially  was  more  alluring  to  him 
that  the  role  of  a  roistering  spendthrift,  and 
without  any  promises  he  had  made  an  inward 
resolution  to  lead  a  life  of  dignified  sobriety. 
Therefore  he  bore  the  good-natured  bantering 
of  his  companions  and  their  affected  wonder- 
ment with  complacency  and  was  more  than 
pleased  with  the  approval  of  Wakefield  and 
Ranee,  whom,  in  his  warm-hearted  Irish  way, 
he  regarded  with  affection  and  respect. 

Their  mining  scheme  in  one  direction  had 
slipped  a  cog.  With  four  or  five  feet  of  snow 
covering  the  ground,  the  possibility  of  a  scarcity 
of  water  had  not  entered  their  minds,  and  they 
had  reckoned  on  washing  the  pay  dirt  as  soon 
as  extracted;  but  here  they  were  at  fault.  They 
had  not  taken  into  account  the  long,  zero-cold 

[55] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

nights  and  the  almost  sunless  days.  Their  claim 
was  on  the  north  slope  of  the  mountain,  and  in 
clear  days  the  sun  shone  over  the  crest  of  the 
ridge  on  their  camp  not  more  than  a  couple  of 
hours.  As  a  consequence,  for  drinking  and 
cooking  purposes  melted  snow  was  their  only 
recourse,  while  for  gravel-washing  there  was 
none  except  what  trickled  out  from  the  drainage 
of  the  tunnel,  and  that  froze  almost  as  quickly 
as  it  reached  the  open  air.  At  first  they  were 
puzzled  as  to  what  to  do  to  get  around  this  ob- 
stacle, but  finally  Tex  suggested  an  expedient 
that  partially  solved  the  problem.  His  idea  was 
to  excavate  a  chamber  some  thirty  feet  from  the 
mouth  of  the  tunnel  large  enough  to  hold  a  rocker 
and  a  tub  for  panning,  hollow  out  a  hole  for  a 
pool  in  the  bedrock,  and  let  the  drainage  water 
flow  in  and  out.  By  this  they  would  have  suffi- 
cient water  to  rock  the  richest  of  the  gravel  and 
pan  the  bedrock  scrapings.  The  remainder  of 
the  dirt  extracted  could  be  wheeled  out  and 
dumped  in  the  head  of  the  ravine  until  the  thaw 
and  melting  snows  of  the  springtime  furnished 
a  Tom  head,  when  a  grand  cleaning  up  of  the 
winter's  work  could  be  had.  As  the  temperature 
at  thirty  feet  inside  was  at  least  thirty  degrees 

[56] 


STUDY      AND      WORK 

higher  than  in  the  open  air  it  worked  nicely,  and 
the  little  company  were  gratified  with  daily 
tangible  proofs  of  the  extraordinary  richness  of 
their  ground.  After  the  adoption  of  this  method 
the  average  daily  yield  was  over  one  hundred 
dollars,  which,  with  the  unknown  but  valuable 
asset  of  the  ever-accumulating  dump  pile  in  the 
canyon,  made  them  more  than  content  with  their 
lot. 


[57] 


CHAPTER   VI 

THE    GIANT   NUGGET 

nn HE  channel  gravel  was  mixed  with  boulders 
of  white  quartz  from  six  inches  to  two  feet 
in  diameter,  which  had  to  be  wheeled  out;  and 
they  had  disposed  of  them  by  walling  up  both 
sides  of  the  open  cut  and  beyond  with  these 
rocks,  building  up  a  solid  wall  two  feet  thick 
and  five  feet  in  height.  These  were  muddy  and 
clay-stained,  and  no  particular  attention  had 
been  paid  to  them.  Ranee,  who  had  added  black- 
smithing  to  his  accomplishments  and  spent  an 
hour  daily  at  the  crude  forge  set  under  the  timber 
roof  sharpening  pick  points  and  crowbars,  noted 
the  drip  of  water  from  the  melting  snow  over- 
head, and  as  it  fell  upon  the  wall,  the  contrast 
between  it  and  the  glassy  white  quartz  where 
it  had  washed  away  the  adhering  clay.  It  was 
an  idle  and  purposeless  gaze,  yet  was  suddenly 
fixed  by  what  seemed  to  be  a  splash  of  glittering 
yellow.  He  rubbed  his  eyes  and  looked  again, 
distrusting  the  accuracy  of  his  vision,  but  it  was 
still  there.  The  dropping  water  had  exposed  a 

'    [58] 


THE     GIANT     NUGGET 

clean  surface  of  about  a  hand's-breadth,  and 
through  it  ran  a  two-inch  streak  of  solid  gold. 
Still  doubting  his  senses  he  went  to  the  forge, 
and,  getting  a  dipper  full  of  water,  cleaned  away 
a  larger  space,  which  not  only  exposed  six  inches 
more  of  the  precious  metal  in  the  vein,  but 
brought  to  light  a  dozen  smaller  and  intersecting 
streaks.  Then  he  went  into  the  tunnel,  procured 
a  bucketful,  and  repeated  the  cleansing  process 
until  all  of  the  rock  not  embedded  in  the  wall 
was  brought  to  view.  It  was  a  pretty  sight  — 
splashes,  streaks,  and  veins  of  gold  running  over 
it  in  every  direction,  apparently  more  metal 
than  quartz  in  its  make-up.  Ranee  stood  for 
a  time  fascinated,  then  turned  as  weak  as  a  sick 
kitten,  until  it  finally  oozed  into  his  brain  that 
he  was  neither  drunk  nor  crazy,  and  that  he  had 
discovered  the  daddy  of  all  nuggets  so  far  as 
heard  from.  Grasping  this  idea,  his  next  mood 
was  one  of  intense  gratification  that  he  had  been 
the  lucky  one ;  for  at  times  he  had  been  somewhat 
disquieted  with  the  thought  that  his  comrades 
were  bearing  the  brunt  of  the  hard  work  and 
that  he  was  having  an  easier  task  than  that 
alloted  to  his  partners.  Here,  however,  he  could 
even  up  accounts,  although  he  had  had  no  part 

[59] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

in  unearthing  it  from  the  channel.  With  these 
thoughts  flitting  through  his  mind,  he  hung  an 
old  sack  over  the  boulder,  and  going  to  the  tun- 
nel yelled  to  his  comrades  to  come  forth,  which 
they  did  with  all  speed,  fearing  that  an  accident 
had  happened  to  their  chum.  They  were  some- 
what mystified  when  he  drew  them  up  in  a  row 
facing  the  sack,  asking  not  to  be  interrupted, 
and  then  with  the  air  of  a  showman,  directed 
them  to  fix  their  eyes  on  if.  Counting  "one, 
two,  three,"  he  whisked  the  covering  away  and 
stepped  aside  to  watch  the  effect.  Mike's  eye 
caught  it  first,  and  with  a  "Holy  mother  of 
Moses!"  he  sprang  to  the  wall,  followed  by  the 
rest.  The  Ohioans  shouted,  Tex  gave  a  whoop 
that  could  have  been  heard  on  the  river,  and 
Wakefield  grasped  Ranee's  hand  with  a  grip 
that  disabled  that  member  for  the  rest  of  the 
afternoon. 

Recovering  from  their  unqualified  astonish- 
ment, the  first  impulse,  acted  on  at  once,  was  to 
remove  the  boulder  from  the  wall  and  give  it  a 
critical  examination.  It  was  taken  out,  carried 
to  the  blacksmith's  tub,  and  washed,  the  cleansing 
process  demonstrating  that  the  greater  part  of 
it  was  virgin  gold.  Then  it  was  moved  to  the 

[60] 


He  drew  them  up  in  a  row,  facing  the  sack,  and  whisked  the 
covering  away." 


THE     GIANT     NUGGET 

cabin  and  placed  on  the  table,  and  the  partners 
sat  around  gloating  over  its  size  and  beauty  and 
speculating  on  its  value.  Ranee  rehearsed  the 
details  of  his  discovery,  his  doubt  and  incredulity, 
his  final  conviction,  the  turmoil  of  brain,  the 
ensuing  recovery  of  mental  equilibrium,  the 
dramatic  surprise  planned  for  his  comrades,  and 
the  feeling  that  the  pleasure  of  revealing  the  find 
almost  exceeded  the  joy  of  discovery.  To  their 
credit  be  it  said  that  while  not  one  of  them  would 
have  been  capable  of  such  an  action,  there  came  to 
each  the  question  as  to  what  he  would  have  done 
in  like  circumstances.  It  would  have  been  so 
easy  to  have  re-daubed  it  with  mud,  removed 
it  from  the  wall,  and  hidden  it  away.  Perhaps 
they  were  grateful  not  to  have  been  tempted, 
human  nature  is  so  weak.  Ranee  modestly  dis- 
claimed any  credit  —  some  of  them  would  have 
run  across  it  before  long.  And  then  came 
guessing  relative  to  its  value  and  as  to  what 
should  be  done  with  it.  No  one  pretended  to 
closely  estimate  its  worth;  there  were  no  scales 
on  which  to  weigh  it,  and  if  there  had  been  they 
would  have  merely  given  the  weight  of  the  mass. 
Tex  and  the  brothers  were  for  breaking  it  up, 
ieparating  the  gold  from  the  quartz,  and  chipping 

[61] 


THE       CITY       OF       SIX 

the  metal  into  pieces  small  enough  to  weigh  on 
the  little  gold-scales,  the  utmost  capacity  of 
which  was  but  five  ounces.  This  was  negatived, 
at  least  for  the  present,  and  then  Mike  made  a 
suggestion  which  seemed  to  meet  the  emergency. 

"Let's  pick  out  a  boulder  as  near  the  size  of 
this  one  as  we  can  find.  Av  coorse  it  will  be 
having  no  gold  into  it ;  it  does  n't  stand  to  rayson 
that  there  can  be  many  more  like  it." 

"Why  not?"  interjected  Tex.  "There  is  as 
much  reason  for  another  one  as  for  this.  Let 
us  go  down  in  the  cut  and  wash  off  the  wall. 
I  wouldn't  be  surprised  if  there  were  a  dozen 
more." 

That  view  met  with  unanimous  approval,  and 
with  one  accord  they  started  for  the  door,  but 
halted  as  Mike  said, 

"What!  lave  that  lump  of  beauty  alone  on 
the  table  while  we  are  pothering  around  looking 
for  more,  and  some  one  coming  along  to  take  it 
away  with  him,  the  dirty  thafe!" 

The  absurdity  of  such  a  happening  did  not 
strike  them,  nor  the  fact  that  for  over  three 
months  there  had  been  neither  visitor  nor  passer- 
by. There  on  the  table  was  visible  and  tangible 


[62] 


THE     GIANT     NUGGET 

wealth.  Murder  had  been  done  for  less,  and  it 
was  better  to  take  no  risks. 

Thoughtful  Wakefield  passed  his  hand  over 
his  forehead  and  remarked  that  it  might  be  a 
dream,  and  they  would  all  wake  up  directly  and 
wonder  at  the  vividness  of  it;  at  which  Ranee 
pooh-poohed  and  bade  them  go  ahead. 

"I  have  supper  to  get.  You  are  all  in  a 
trance  now,  but  you  will  be  hungry  enough  when 
you  come  out  of  it.  Be  off  with  you,  and  I  will 
take  care  of  the  nugget." 

For  an  hour  they  worked  industriously,  bring- 
ing out  buckets  of  water  from  the  rocker  pool 
and  scouring  the  face  of  the  wall.  In  vain;  not 
a  speck  of  gold  could  be  found,  and  it  must  be 
confessed  that  they  were  disappointed,  for  their 
cupidity  had  been  stimulated  to  a  high  pitch,  and 
when  they  again  assembled  in  the  cabin  the 
precious  boulder  seemed  to  have  shrunk  into 
smaller  dimensions. 

"Well,  you  are  a  queer  lot,"  laughed  Ranee, 
"and  it's  hard  to  satisfy  you.  The  next  one  I 
find,  I'll  roll  it  down  the  hill,  and  then  there 
will  be  no  occasion  for  disgust." 

"Yes,  of  course  you  will,"  retorted  Wakefield; 


[63] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

"  but,  Ranee,  it  must  have  come  from  somewhere, 
and  there  is  no  argument  to  prove  that  there  is 
no  more." 

"  Of  course,  it  is  from  somewhere,"  flung  back 
Ranee.  "Look  at  it,  round  and  smooth,  ground 
and  polished  as  it  rolled  down  the  river  bed,  and 
it  is  from  the  source  where  all  the  rest  of  the 
gold  in  the  channel  came  from.  Maybe  you  can 
tell  us  where  that  was,  and  what  sort  of  a  country  ' 
this  was  when  this  old,  dried-up,  played-out 
stream  was  running  bank-full  two  thousand  feet 
above  the  Yuba  River.  Come  on  and  eat  your 
supper,  and  don't  worry  over  theories." 

They  fell  to,  not  with  very  hearty  appetites 
and  more  or  less  depressed ;  the  reaction  from  the 
excitement  told  upon  their  spirits. 

"Well,  I  swear  I  wish  I  had  never  found  it," 
scolded  Ranee;  "you  are  a  nice  lot  of  men.  If 
it  had  been  double  the  size,  I  expect  you  would 
have  all  gone  out  and  hung  yourselves  on  the 
old  pine  tree." 

Thus  rallied,  they  began  to  get  back  into  their 
old  form,  and  Mike's  suggestion  was  recalled. 
A  boulder  approximating  the  precious  one  in 
dimensions  was  brought  up  to  the  cabin;  in  size 
the  barren  rock  was  equal  to  the  nugget,  but  by 

[64] 


THE      GIANT     NUGGET 

mere  test  of  hand  the  latter  was  double  in  weight. 
Mike's  idea  was  to  improvise  a  balance  by  ad- 
justing a  crowbar  on  a  cross-piece  of  steel,  the 
latter  supported  on  two  benches;  the  crowbar 
kept  from  slipping  by  wiring  it  loosely  to  the 
cross-piece,  which  was  done.  Then  the  nugget 
was  slung  to  one  end  of  the  bar  and  a  hundred- 
pound  sack  of  flour  to  the  other.  The  flour  was 
the  heavier,  but  a  ten-pound  can  of  coffee  on 
the  nugget  restored  the  equilibrium.  Result,  the 
gold  and  quartz  weighed  approximately  about 
ninety  pounds.  Then  a  fifty-pound  sack  of  rice 
replaced  the  flour;  the  barren  boulder,  the  nug- 
get. The  rice  was  the  weightier,  and  it  took  the 
ten-pound  can  of  coffee  to  balance  up  the  boul- 
der, less  four  full  yeast-powder  cans  at  four 
ounces  each.  It  followed  that  the  barren  boulder 
weighed  forty-one  pounds,  the  nugget  ninety 
pounds;  hence  there  was  forty-nine  pounds  of 
gold,  or  over  ten  thousand  dollars. 

"I  guess  we  have  got  no  complaint  coming," 
said  the  Dean;  "that  is  over  fifteen  hundred 
dollars  apiece  for  one  day's  work,  and  there  is 
plenty  more  where  it  came  from." 

"Hould  on  there,  ye  blundering  figurers," 
roared  Mike,  "ten  thousand,  is  it?  What's  the 

[65] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

difference  between  Troy  and  avirdapoise?  Tell 
me  that.  Me  schooling  was  neglected,  although 
Father  Dunn  tried  to  bate  that  into  me  thick 
skull,  but  ye  don't  weigh  gould  the  same  as  you 
do  baf e.  Is  it  more  or  liss  ?  Sure,  I  '11  give  up  me 
share  if  I  Ve  taken  a  penny  off  the  value  of  the 
beauty." 

But  he  had  not.  There  were  four  ounces  more 
to  be  counted  to  the  pound  and  twenty-five  hun- 
dred dollars  added  to  its  worth.  The  process  was 
crude,  and  the  result  would  probably  vary  a 
pound  or  two  when  its  exact  weight  should  be 
determined;  but  it  was  conceded  that  they  were 
richer  by  almost  fourteen  thousand  dollars  than 
before  the  find  had  been  made. 

For  a  week  the  partners  worked  on  fever- 
ishly and  with  a  half-formed  belief  that  their 
luck  would  lead  to  another  and  perhaps  bigger 
find.  Careful  examination  was  made  of  every 
stone  extracted,  but  there  were  no  nuggets  dis- 
covered. The  gravel,  however,  gave  no  indica- 
tion of  falling  off  in  value,  and  they  had  to  con- 
tent themselves  with  an  average  of  an  ounce  a 
day  or  thereabouts.  It  was  finally  decided  not 
to  break  up  the  rich  boulder,  but  to  cache  it  away 
until  spring.  A  hole  three  feet  deep  was  dug  in 

[66] 


THE     GIANT     NUGGET 

the  centre  of  the  dining-room,  and  there  it  was 
buried  out  of  sight,  the  dirt  packed  down  tightly 
over  it,  and  there  it  remained  until  its  final  dis- 
posal. 

For  a  time  there  was  a  conscious  change  in 
their  attitudes  to  one  another,  a  spirit  not  of  dis- 
trust, but  of  vague  unrest.  The  good-fellowship 
abated  a  degree,  the  euchre  games  lost  their  zest, 
Tex  was  less  voluble,  the  brothers  drew  off  into 
corners  and  planned  a  future  that  eliminated  the 
foothills,  and  Mike's  cheery  jokes  and  sarcasm 
lost  their  point.  On  the  other  side  of  the  cabin 
Ranee  no  longer  read  Shakespeare  aloud;  the 
Dean  pored  over  the  volume  with  a  far-away 
look  in  his  eyes  that  indicated  no  very  close  at- 
tention to  the  text.  As  for  Ranee,  his  occupation 
suddenly  became  distasteful,  and  while  he  did 
not  resign,  it  was  understood  that  with  the  clos- 
ing of  winter  and  the  end  of  the  season's  work, 
his  place  as  cook  would  have  to  be  filled  by  some 
other  one  of  the  partners.  He  was  dreaming 
dreams  of  a  return  to  civilization,  to  a  com- 
panionship with  the  gentler  sex,  and  an  abandon- 
ment of  his  present  semi-barbarous  existence.  It 
seemed  as  if  the  discovery  of  the  nugget  had 
loosed  from  imprisonment  some  baleful  spirit, 

[67] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

an  imp  of  discontent  that  hovered  around  the 
place  and  drove  away  the  former  good  cheer  and 
jolly  fellowship. 

So  far,  however,  all  had  gone  well,  and  the 
partners  did  their  best  to  shake  off  the  depression 
and  restore  the  old  atmosphere,  and  would  prob- 
ably have  succeeded  had  not  a  tragedy  brushed 
them  close. 


[68] 


CHAPTER  VII 

THE  LYNCHING 

/^~\NE  Sunday  afternoon  Ranee  returned  from 
his  regular  mail  trip  to  Downieville,  dis- 
hevelled, trembling,  and  pale  as  a  ghost.  That  he 
was  laboring  under  strong  excitement  was  evi- 
dent, and  his  comrades  gathered  around  him 
with  sympathetic  faces  anxious  for  an  explana- 
tion. His  clothes  were  in  disorder,  his  shirt 
torn,  and  there  was  every  evidence  that  he  had 
been  a  participant  in  some  sort  of  row,  from 
which  they  feared  he  had  not  escaped  unscathed. 

Waving  his  hands  in  the  air  he  exclaimed, 

"Oh,  boys,  it  was  horrible!" 

"What  was  horrible?  what  is  it?  what  is  the 
matter  with  you,  Ranee?"  demanded  Wakefield, 
in  a  fever  of  anxiety. 

"The  matter?"  cried  Ranee.  "My  God!  the 
beasts!  the  hounds!  they  hung  a  woman  in  Dow- 
nieville to-day — lynched  her  in  cold  blood,  and 
we  were  powerless  to  save  her." 

The  partners  gazed  at  him  incredulously. 
Such  a  thing  was  beyond  belief;  had  he  lost  his 

[69] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

wits?  Hang  a  woman!  Impossible,  even  in  so 
rough  a  community.  Surely,  if  the  gamblers 
and  desperadoes  had  made  such  an  attempt  the 
miners  would  have  wiped  them  off  the  face  of 
the  earth. 

"The  miners,"  retorted  Ranee,  "they  were  the 
barbarians  that  did  it,"  and  he  shook  with  emo- 
tion as  he  recalled  the  scene. 

"Calm  yourself,  Ranee,"  said  Wakefield; 
"you  surely  had  no  hand  in  it.  Tell  us  what 
has  happened  and  how  it  came  about." 

"No,  I  had  nothing  to  do  with  it  except  to 
try  and  save  her;  and  they  came  within  an  ace 
of  hanging  me,  too,  the  cowards." 

Mike,  who  usually  knew  the  right  thing  to 
do,  went  to  the  cabin,  filled  a  cup  half  full  of 
whiskey,  and  returning,  forced  it  on  Ranee,  who 
was  in  a  state  of  collapse. 

"You  need  a  bracer,"  said  Mike,  "take  a  long 
drink  and  steady  your  nerves,  and  let  us  know 
what  has  come  across  you  to  get  you  in  such  a 
state." 

Thus  adjured,  Ranee  gulped  down  the  liquor 
and  began  his  tale. 

"I  got  into  town  about  ten  o'clock  and  went 
to  the  post-office  after  the  letters  and  I  met 

[70] 


THE        LYNCHING 

Harry  Thornton  there.  We  shook  hands  and 
then  he  said,  'Ranee,  there  is  a  lot  of  trouble 
on  hand.  A  miner  was  murdered  this  morning, 
there  is  a  rough  crowd  gathering,  and  it  means 
mischief.  I  don't  believe  the  mob  will  hurt  the 
woman,  but  it  is  liable  to  turn  loose  and  clean 
out  the  Greasers  by  way  of  retaliation.' 

'What  woman?'  I  asked,  'what  has  she  done? 
and  how  are  the  Mexicans  concerned  with  it?' 

"  'Anita  did  the  stabbing,'  he  replied. 

"Y.ou  know  Anita,"  said  Ranee  to  his  part- 
ners. They  had  all  heard  of  or  knew  her.  She 
was  a  little  slip  of  a  Mexican  girl,  a  handsome 
type  of  her  race,  whose  loose  morals  and  pro- 
fession were  well  understood  throughout  the 
camp,  a  woman  no  better  nor  worse  than  a  dozen 
of  her  kind  who  made  the  town  their  dwelling- 
place. 

"From  what  Thornton  told  me,  the  miner 
had  been  on  a  drunken  carouse  for  a  week.  This 
morning,  in  a  particularly  ugly  mood  he  at- 
tempted to  force  an  entrance  to  Anita's  house, 
and  she  refused  to  let  him  in,  doubtless  afraid 
that  in  his  drunken  state  he  would  abuse  her. 
Her  refusal  maddened  him,  and  kicking  the  door 
in,  he  raised  his  hand  to  strike  her,  when  crazy 

[71] 


THE       CITY        OF       SIX 

with  fear  she  drew  a  knife  and  plunged  it  into 
his  heart.  The  fellow  fell  dead  on  the  doorstep, 
and  she  ran  screaming  up  the  street  and  into 
the  Magnolia  Saloon,  where  she  gasped  out  in- 
coherently that  she  had  stabbed  a  man.  The 
sheriff  took  her  to  the  log  jail,  and  the  dead 
man  was  brought  to  the  court-house  and  laid  out 
preparatory  to  a  coroner's  inquest.  The  town 
was  full  of  miners  —  he  was  a  miner  from  Poker 
Flat, —  and  some  of  the  rougher  spirits  began 
to  agitate  the  justice  of  cleaning  out  the  'Greas- 
ers.' The  Mexicans,  anticipating  some  such  ac- 
tion, decamped  down  the  river  and  out  of  harm's 
way,  a  move  that  balked  and  enraged  the  mob. 
The  members  headed  back  up  the  street,  howling 
and  yelling  for  vengeance  and  some  one  cried, 
*  Hang  the ! '  Then  they  went  wild,  bat- 
tered in  the  jail  door,  seized  the  poor  woman, 
ran  her  down  to  the  bridge  over  the  river, 
fastened  a  rope  to  the  rail  and  around  her  neck, 
and  pushed  her  over.  Great  God!  boys,  would 
you  believe  that  white  men  could  do  such  a  thing? 
It  all  happened  after  Harry  began  to  tell  me 
the  trouble.  The  gamblers  scattered  to  cover, 
they  were  afraid  the  mob  would  turn  its  attention 


[72] 


THE        LYNCHING 

to  them;  the  merchants  closed  their  doors  and 
shut  themselves  inside  their  stores,  white-livered 
cowards  that  they  were.  Harry  and  I  drew  our 
six-shooters,  forced  our  way  into  the  crowd,  ap- 
pealed and  threatened,  got  knocked  down  and 
trampled  on  for  our  pains,  and  then  they  began 
to  yell,  'Hang  the  damned  ChivsF  and  I  reckon 
they  would  have  done  it,  for  they  forced  us  on 
the  bridge,  but  the  ghastly  sight  of  that  body, 
twisting  and  turning  over  the  river,  her  hands 
clenched  in  the  rope  at  her  throat,  and  her  dis- 
torted face,  sickened  them  as  it  sickened  me,  and 
the  crowd  melted  away  as  quickly  as  it  came 
together.  That  revulsion  of  feeling  was  all  that 
saved  us.  They  cut  her  down  immediately,  I 
don't  know  who;  I  could  not  stand  the  sight. 
Oh,  it  was  awful!"  and  Ranee  covered  his  face 
with  his  hands,  as  if  to  shut  out  the  vision.  Re- 
covering himself  he  added,  "Worse  than  all, 
boys,  the  hounds  took  two  lives,  one  unborn  into 
the  world." 

Ranee's  narrative  put  them  all  out  of  sorts. 
It  was  incredible  that  such  an  inhuman,  dastardly 
crime  could  have  been  perpetrated.  Ranee 
gradually  recovered  his  equanimity,  the  letters 


[73] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

and  papers  served  to  turn  their  thoughts  mo- 
mentarily into  other  channels,  although  one  and 
all  denounced  Downieville  and  the  cowards  that 
had  stood  by  or  sought  cover  while  the  tragedy 
was  being  enacted. 


[74] 


CHAPTER   VIII 

THE   CITY  OF   SIX   GROWS 

rp  HE  Winter  of  '52-' 53  was  one  of  the  most 
inclement  ever  experienced  in  California. 
Rains  in  the  valleys  and  snowstorms  in  the  moun- 
tains were  almost  continuous  until  early  spring. 
Then  there  came  a  warm  spell  accompanied  with 
a  sou'easter,  before  which  the  snowdrifts  disap- 
peared as  if  by  magic.  Every  ravine  became 
a  brawling  torrent,  the  rivers  a  mad  rush  of  wild 
waters,  and  the  plains  a  vast  lake.  As  the  val- 
leys were  sparsely  settled,  but  little  damage  was 
done  beyond  the  drowning  of  a  few  cattle ;  while 
in  the  hills  the  raging  streams  merely  obliterated 
the  old  work  along  their  banks,  sweeping  away 
the  flumes  and  sluices,  restoring  the  bars  to  their 
original  unvexed  condition,  here  and  there  under- 
mining a  camp  perched  too  near  the  water's  edge, 
or  cutting  through  a  bend,  making  new  channels 
and  leaving  dry  the  old  ones.  The  equinoctial 
storms  over,  the  warm  sun  shone  through  the 
lengthened  days  and  the  mysterious  reincarna- 
tion of  nature  began:  the  foothills  donned  their 

[75] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

robes  of  green  and  gold;  flowers  spangled  every 
hillock ;  the  black  oak  put  forth  its  tender  leaves ; 
the  red  berries  clustered  thickly  on  the  manzanita 
boughs,  a  feast  spread  for  the  predatory  grizzly; 
the  piping  quail  that  had  retreated  before  the 
winter  storms  to  the  lowlands,  paired  off  and 
sought  the  chamizal-clothed  mountain-side  and 
made  their  nests  in  its  densest  thicket;  and  the 
incomparable  springtime  of  the  Sierra  slopes  re- 
vivified and  gladdened  every  living  thing. 

With  it  disappeared  the  depression  and  gloom 
bred  of  the  loneliness  of  their  winter  retreat  that 
had  fallen  on  "The  City  of  Six."  They  had 
come  fairly  well  through  the  enforced  com- 
panionship and  close  contact  of  a  six  months' 
association,  a  supreme  test  of  character.  Per- 
haps the  Dean  was  more  taciturn,  his  Shake- 
spearean studies  had  stimulated  his  reflective 
faculties  and  made  him  somewhat  impatient  of 
the  triteness  of  ordinary  topics ;  Tex  had  become 
feverishly  voluble  and  lived  in  the  past  of  his  bor- 
der and  Mexican  war  experiences;  the  hearts  of 
the  brothers  —  a  commonplace  and  unromantic 
pair  they  were  —  turned  to  their  old  Ohio  homes 
and  the  fat  and  fertile  acres  in  which  they  longed 
to  invest  their  riches;  and  light-hearted  Ranee, 

[76] 


THE     CITY     OF     SIX     GROWS 

since  the  tragedy  on  the  river,  had  become 
peevish,  morbid,  and  irritable.  He  fairly  loathed 
the  place  and  its  surroundings,  detested  his  oc- 
cupation, and  longed  to  get  away  to  a  more 
congenial  environment. 

Mike  was  the  only  partner  who  came  through 
it  all  unchanged,  or  if  changed,  certainly  for  the 
better.  As  his  hoard  grew,  so  his  self-esteem 
and  self-reliance  increased.  A  rollicking,  devil- 
may-care,  poverty-stricken  son  of  the  bog  and  a 
Celtic  gentleman  fairly  well  favored  by  fortune, 
were  different  individuals;  and  there  were  possi- 
bilities in  the  latter  role  which  appealed  to  this 
shrewd,  capable  fellow.  To  a  great  extent  he 
had  displaced  Wakefield  as  chief  adviser,  and 
that  without  any  irritating  arrogance  or  con- 
scious usurpation.  He  had  already  planned  a 
campaign  ahead,  which  he  proposed  to  submit 
at  the  right  moment,  and  least  in  his  mind  was 
any  contingency  that  involved  the  abandonment 
of  the  rich  claim. 

So  matters  stood  at  the  end  of  April.  They 
had  penetrated  the  mountain-side  quite  two 
hundred  feet,  and  the  channel  showed  no  sign  of 
giving  out.  Their  main  and  lateral  drifts,  with 
what  coyoting  they  had  done  in  the  richer  spots, 

[77] 


THE       CITY       OF       SIX 

had  yielded  about  twenty-two  thousand  dollars, 
besides  the  big  nugget  cached  under  the  floor. 
There  was  a  huge  pile  of  gravel  dumped  in  the 
head  of  the  ravine,  of  unknown  value;  yet  they 
knew  the  gold  was  sifted  through  it,  for  after 
a  heavy  rainstorm  they  could  see  the  evidence 
of  it  in  the  shiny  particles  that  spangled  its  sur- 
face. The  melting  snows  provided  plenty  of 
water  to  wash  it  down,  so  they  set  the  sluice  and 
"long  Tom"  and  began  work.  It  took  them  ten 
days  to  complete  the  task;  it  was  prolonged  by 
the  continual  proof  in  the  yellow-lined  bottoms 
of  the  sluices  of  the  necessity  of  slow  and  careful 
washing  to  prevent  waste.  Each  night's  clean- 
up resulted  in  a  yield  that  nearly  took  their 
breath  away,  a  prospect-pan  brimful  of  coarse, 
rounded  and  polished  gold  from  the  size  of  mus- 
tard seed  to  lumps  that  ran  into  the  ounces,  and 
when  it  was  all  done  and  the  harvest  gathered, 
that  pile  of  dirt,  which  had  hardly  been  taken 
into  calculation,  added  to  their  store  forty-one 
thousand  dollars. 

It  was  a  more  cheerful  crowd  that  gathered 
around  the  table  that  May  night.  After  all, 
there  had  been  no  hardships,  no  sickness,  no  ac- 
cidents; a  little  unstringing  of  the  nerves  per- 

[78] 


THE    CITY    OF    SIX    GROWS 

haps  from  the  monotony  of  the  life  and  the 
loneliness  of  it  all,  but  here  was  their  reward, 
over  twelve  thousand  dollars  to  the  share,  and 
apparently  their  mining  ground  barely  opened. 
Even  Ranee  brightened  up  and  took  a  less 
gloomy  view  of  the  camp.  Of  course,  they  all 
had  their  plans,  diverging  views,  which  while 
not  irreconcilable,  needed  modification  to  meet 
the  general  good;  and  as  the  hour  grew  late 
Mike  proposed  that  they  postpone  further  dis- 
cussion and  give  the  next  day  to  an  effort  to 
find  common  ground. 

It  was  a  warm,  balmy  spring  day  when  the 
partners,  impatient  of  the  confinement  between 
the  log  walls,  sat  down  under  a  big  sugar  pine 
not  too  far  away  from  the  cabin,  for  there  their 
treasure  lay.  With  the  disappearance  of  snow 
the  old  trails  were  once  more  trod ;  dwellers  from 
the  camps  over  the  ridge  paying  long-deferred 
visits  to  the  county  seat,  restless  miners  on  the 
road  hunting  richer  diggings  and  fresher  fields, 
sports  passing  on  horse  and  mule  back,  who 
neither  toiled  nor  spun  (except  the  ivory  ball 
in  the  whirling  roulette  wheel)  and  yet  were 
clothed  in  broadcloth  (Ranee  viewed  their  ap- 
parel with  envy  as  they  passed  by) ,  and  sinister- 

[79] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

looking  Mexicans,  mustang-mounted  Greasers, 
who  were  watched  with  cautious  glances,  for 
Joaquin  Murieta's  band  had  been  raiding,  plun- 
dering, and  murdering  in  the  adjoining  counties. 

The  first  question  was  the  disposal  of  the 
gold,  and  it  was  decided  that  the  better  plan 
would  be  to  sell  it  outright  to  the  express  and 
bank  agency  at  Downieville,  if  satisfactory  terms 
could  be  had,  or  if  not,  to  ship  it  by  express  to 
the  U.  S.  Assay  Office  at  San  Francisco,  where 
they  would  be  sure  of  a  fair  deal.  There  was 
nearly  four  hundred  pounds,  including  the  nug- 
get; but  as  the  trail  was  all  down  hill,  the  six 
could  manage  between  them  to  pack  the  treasure 
to  a  place  of  safety  and  without  any  great  peril, 
as  outside  their  own  little  band  nobody  knew  the 
extent  or  value  of  their  accumulations. 

This  settled,  there  came  the  weightier  point 
of  future  operations,  and  each  set  forth  his  views 
and  intentions.  Wakefield  announced  that  he 
meant  to  pay  a  visit  to  his  old  home,  not  to  stay, 
but  his  heart  was  yearning  for  a  sight  of  the 
wife  and  baby,  not  realizing  that  that  same  baby 
was  now  quite  a  young  lady.  Besides,  the 
recent  letters  had  warned  him  of  his  wife's  fail- 
ing health  —  incipient  consumption,  a  friend 

[80] 


THE     CITY     OF     SIX     GROWS 

wrote;  a  little  cough  as  she  alluded  to  it, —  and 
he  planned  to  bring  them  back,  to  a  home  in  the 
glorious,  health-giving  mountains. 

Ranee  projected  a  long  and  pleasurable  visit 
to  San  Francisco,  perhaps  a  settling  down  in 
the  budding  city,  although  he  wanted  to  retain 
his  interest  in  the  property  and  hinted  at  putting 
a  competent  substitute  into  the  kitchen. 

Tex  had  no  plan.  He  was  as  well  off  here  as 
elsewhere,  perhaps  better.  There  was  no  home 
for  him  to  go  back  to,  and  no  relatives  or  kin 
except  a  brother  whom  he  had  not  seen  for  years 
and  whose  whereabouts  were  unknown.  He  might 
take  a  little  pasear  down  to  the  Bay  just  for  a 
change,  and  that  over,  was  ready  to  get  down  to 
work  again. 

The  brothers  from  Ohio  had  mutually  and 
definitely  decided  to  go  back  to  the  Buckeye 
State,  purchase  farms,  and  settle  into  their  old 
life,  as  lived  prior  to  their  adventurous  journey 
to  the  Pacific.  They  were  willing  to  dispose  of 
their  interest  in  the  claims  to  their  partners  at 
a  reasonable  price,  to  be  agreed  upon,  or  if  not, 
to  some  outsider  looking  after  a  profitable  in- 
vestment. 

This  left  Mike  the  last  to  announce  his  inten- 

[81] 


THE       CITY       OF       SIX 

tions,  which  he  did  not  seem  to  be  in  any  haste 
to  do.  He  had  listened  to  his  partners  without 
any  comment,  and  would  have  made  none  had 
they  not  insisted  on  knowing  his  plans.  At  last 
he  said, 

"  I  'm  not  quite  ready,  byes,  to  tell  ye  what 's 
in  me  head,  excipt  it's  not  me  prisent  intintion 
to  run  away  from  good  fortune.  Ye  may  think 
ye  can  find  another  piece  of  ground  out  of  which 
ye  may  take  siventy  thousand  dollars  in  a  win- 
ter's work,  or  perhaps  ye  have  got  more  money 
than  ye  can  spind  in  the  rest  of  your  natural 
lives ;  but  I  'm  not  holding  to  ayther  one  of  thim 
opinions." 

"Well,  Mike,"  asked  Wakefield,  "what  do 
you  propose?  Have  you  planned  out  the  future 
for  all  of  us?" 

"I  have  me  own  ideas,  but  it 's  a  little  airly 
to  spake  of  thim.  I'm  just  as  tired  as  the  rist 
of  ye  of  hard  wurrk,  and  it 's  little  more  I  mane 
to  do  of  it ;  it 's  a  boss  I  wud  be,  and  I  think  I 
see  not  only  me  own,  but  a  chanst  for  us  all. 
I  '11  make  me  proposal.  It 's  no  rush  we  are  in. 
Let's  dispose  of  our  goold,  take  it  aisy  for  a 
week,  during  which  time  I  will  be  absint,  then 


[82] 


THE    CITY    OF    SIX    GROWS 

we'll  have  a  grand  pow-wow  and  make  up  our 
minds  what's  best  for  to  do." 

Mike  was  obstinate  and  would  say  nothing 
further. 

"It's  not  prepared  to  spake  I  am  until  I 
go  over  to  Forest  City,  Alleghany,  and  Moore's 
Flat.  They're  doing  things  over  there  I  want 
to  know  about,  and  whin  I  come  back  we'll  go 
into  the  matter  at  more  length." 

They  yielded  to  his  views.  Mike  had  risen 
greatly  in  their  respect  during  their  comrade- 
ship, had  proved  resourceful,  intelligent,  and 
endowed  with  a  store  of  good  hard  sense.  And 
then  withal,  he  was  so  jolly,  good-natured,  and 
brimming  over  with  mother  wit  that  he  had,  with- 
out seeking  it,  displaced  Wakefield's  tacit  leader- 
ship, and  that  without  protest  on  the  latter's 
part.  In  fact,  since  Wakefield  had  yielded  to 
the  glamour  of  Shakespeare's  pages  he  had  be- 
come meditative  and  silent.  The  trouble  was 
that  much  reading  had  plunged  his  mind  into 
a  yeasty  condition — he  was  in  an  intellectual  fer- 
ment. It  was  a  serious  question  whether  it  was 
working  good  or  evil;  it  had  brought  discontent 
with  his  condition  without  compensation  in  an 


[83] 


THE        CITY       OF       SIX 

improvement.  Wakefield  was  born  to  be  a  plod- 
der, a  sober,  industrious,  bourgeois  citizen,  not 
gifted  to  grapple  with  or  solve  world  problems, 
nor  had  he  troubled  himself  with  them  until  the 
book  fell  into  his  hands.  Since  then  he  had 
grown  morbid,  aspiring  to  a  broader  life  and 
wider  knowledge,  and  not  comprehending  just 
how  to  attain  his  aspirations.  What  he  needed 
was  a  change  of  scene,  a  contact  with  the  busy 
outside  world,  and  the  chances  were  that  his 
contemplated  trip  to  the  States  would  bring 
with  it  a  cure. 

The  day  following  the  five  made  the  trip  to 
Downieville  with  the  treasure,  Ranee  resolutely 
refusing  to  again  visit  what  to  him  was  an  ac- 
cursed spot;  the  proceeds  were  sold  to  the  ex- 
press company,  including  the  nugget,  for  which 
they  received  the  full  fourteen  thousand  dollars 
they  had  estimated,  and  the  total  amount  to  their 
credit  reached  $77,000,  for  which  they  were 
given  individual  certificates  of  deposit,  each  to 
the  amount  of  his  share.  The  disposal  of  the 
gold  lifted  a  burden  of  anxiety,  and  while  a  mere 
piece  of  paper  was  not  quite  as  tangible  as  the 
dust,  still  it  represented  real  wealth  and  was 
negotiable. 

[84] 


THE    CITY    OF     SIX    GROWS 

On  their  return,  Ranee  signified  his  intention 
to  accompany  Mike  on  his  tour  of  observation. 
The  Irishman  was  delighted  with  the  proposal, 
and  the  next  morning  they  started  for  the  camps 
over  the  ridge.  They  found  that  the  same  ancient 
channel  in  which  they  had  been  working  extended 
across  country  for  at  least  a  dozen  miles  and  was 
being  exploited  at  many  points  where  the  gulches, 
canyons,  and  rivers  had  cut  through  and  exposed 
it.  Moreover,  companies  had  been  formed,  new 
methods  introduced,  and  the  exploitation  re- 
duced to  a  system  that  made  possible  the  mining 
and  extraction  of  the  gravel  the  full  width  of 
the  channel,  and  gangs  of  men  were  employed 
at  day  wages  to  do  the  work,  superseding  the 
cooperative  labor  of  the  owners.  Mike  had  got 
a  hint  of  this  from  travellers  on  the  old  trail  who 
had  lingered  for  a  chat,  and  it  was  this  that  had 
set  him  thinking  of  the  possibilities  of  The  City 
of  Six  mine.  They  also  found  lively  growing 
hamlets  of  a  thousand  or  more  people,  where 
six  months  previous  there  had  been  but  a  few 
log  cabins.  These  camps  were  at  the  height  of 
prosperity,  and  the  scene  of  a  wild,  free,  lawless 
life  that  equalled  in  excitement  and  recklessness 
the  flush  days  of  '49.  It  was  a  holiday  for  both 

[85] 


THE       CITY       OF       SIX 

Mike  and  Ranee,  and  while  they  did  not  yield 
to  any  of  the  seductive  temptations  and  fought 
shy  of  both  drink  and  hazard,  it  was  a  joy  to 
rub  elbows,  so  to  speak,  with  their  kind  and  to 
see  new  faces  and  fresh  vistas  of  life.  They 
were  both  in  the  best  of  spirits  on  their  return, 
where  they  found  their  companions  waiting 
somewhat  impatiently.  Without  any  unneces- 
sary delay,  Mike  at  once  plunged  into  the  sub- 
ject, ably  supported  by  Ranee,  who  had  become 
thoroughly  convinced  of  the  wisdom  of  Mike's 
ideas. 

Briefly,  he  was  persuaded  they  were  all  tired 
of  hard  work  and  solitude,  even  if  they  had  been 
handsomely  paid  for  their  privations;  but  in  his 
opinion  they  had  hardly  scratched  the  ground 
on  their  property.  They  were  entitled,  according 
to  the  mining  laws  adopted  at  neighboring 
camps,  to  three  thousand  feet  on  the  channel; 
and  as  they  had  the  only  available  opening,  the 
old  stream  running  into  and  under  the  mountain, 
they  really  commanded  a  couple  of  miles  free 
from  interference.  His  proposal  was  that  they 
should  form  a  company,  of  which  each  should 
own  one-sixth  of  the  shares.  A  manager  and 
assistant  should  be  appointed  to  take  charge  of 

[86] 


THE    CITY    OF    SIX    GROWS 

the  mine,  a  gang  of  hired  miners  put  to  work, 
as  many  as  they  could  profitably  employ,  and 
the  property  run  on  a  big  scale.  The  scheme 
was  discussed,  pro  and  con,  and  met  with  favor 
except  from  the  brothers,  who  had  concluded  that 
they  had  had  enough  of  mining  and  were  going 
back  home  with  no  intention  of  returning.  Still, 
they  were  willing  to  sell  their  interests  at  what- 
ever price  mutually  agreed  upon  as  just  and 
reasonable.  A  bargain  was  soon  struck,  twenty 
thousand  dollars  for  the  third  interest  was  fixed 
as  a  fair  figure,  and  the  sale  concluded.  Each  of 
the  remaining  four  owned  a  quarter  interest. 
It  was  the  end  of  The  City  of  Six,  so  far  as  the 
name  coincided  with  the  number  of  inhabitants, 
and  a  breaking  up  of  the  primitive  life  of  its 
founders. 

Mike,  urged  to  take  the  managership  and 
nothing  loth,  consented  to  assume  direction  of 
affairs,  and  Tex  was  quite  willing  to  act  as  his 
lieutenant.  All  of  the  legal  documents  required 
to  consummate  the  arrangement  were  duly  pre- 
pared, accepted,  and  signed;  the  corporation 
took  on  being  as  the  Old  Channel  Mining  Com- 
pany, and  the  new  era  began. 

The  Ohioans  gathered  together  their  few  be- 

[87] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

longings,  bade  their  companions  good-bye,  and 
departed.  A  few  days  later,  Wakefield  took  the 
trail  for  the  lowlands,  turning  his  footsteps  home- 
ward with  considerable  reluctance.  However, 
his  absence  was  to  be  but  temporary;  it  was  his 
avowed  intention  to  return  with  wife  and  child 
before  the  summer  was  over.  Ranee  lingered 
for  a  time.  The  charm  of  the  independent,  ir- 
responsible life  appealed  to  him  with  redoubled 
force,  especially  as  the  menial  duties  of  cook 
were  no  longer  necessary.  Besides,  he  had  taken 
a  great  liking  to  the  big-hearted  Irishman,  and 
formed  an  admiration  for  his  capabilities.  He 
was  convinced  that  the  comparatively  few  thou- 
sands taken  out  of  the  property  was  but  a  small 
portion  of  what  it  would  yield  in  the  future, 
and  if  their  expectations  were  realized,  this  meant 
an  income  that  would  command  leisure,  ease, 
and  enjoyment.  Then  again,  the  region  was  at 
this  time  of  the  year  a  veritable  paradise,  the 
balmy  air  an  intoxication  to  his  senses;  a  siesta 
at  full  length  under  the  shadow  of  the  tree,  on 
a  soft  bed  of  pine  needles,  invited  an  irresponsible 
loafing  spell;  yes,  he  would  not  hurry  away,  the 
summer  was  before  him,  he  would  just  sit  around 


[88] 


THE    CITY    OF    SIX    GROWS 

a  while  and  watch  Mike  and  Tex  expend  their 
stored-up  energy. 

These  two  worthies  were  more  than  content. 
Dozens  of  men  passed  along  the  trail  daily, 
many  of  them  willing  to  work,  especially  as  the 
wage  scale  was  fixed  at  an  attractive  figure,  and 
by  the  end  of  the  first  week  of  the  birth  of  the 
new  company  a  gang  of  ten  stalwart  miners  were 
busy  making  improvements.  The  first  and  most 
necessary  addition  was  a  bunk  and  boarding- 
house,  built  of  logs,  as  sawed  lumber  was  not 
available ;  the  next,  some  one  capable  of  running 
the  "beanery,"  as  they  dubbed  it,  to  the  satis- 
faction of  the  boarders.  One  of  the  new  men 
mentioned  the  fact  that  there  was  a  widow  over 
at  Nigger  Tent  on  the  ridge  who  he  thought  was 
helping  in  that  classically  named  wayside  inn 
"for  her  keep." 


[89] 


CHAPTER    IX 

RUTH    PROVES   A   TREASURE   TO   THE   CAMP 

' '  T3  ANCE,  ye  lazy  divil,  ride  over  and  fetch 
her  back  if  ye  have  to  bind  her  hands  and 
feet  and  pack  her  on  a  mule.  A  woman,  and  a 
widdy  at  that!  Sure  The  City  of  Six  nades  a 
little  divarsity  in  its  population.  Besides,"  added 
Mike,  "  she  '11  bring  contint  to  the  min ;  they  '11  not 
mind  whether  it 's  good  or  bad  cooking  she  does, 
providing  she  's  not  ould." 

Ranee,  who  by  the  way  had  picked  up  a  young 
mustang  and  equipment  at  a  bargain  from  an 
impecunious  traveller,  undertook  the  errand;  the 
inn  was  down  the  ridge  a  dozen  miles  or  so,  and 
he  was  ready  for  any  jaunt  that  promised  a 
diversion.  In  a  couple  of  days  after  his  de- 
parture he  reappeared  walking  beside  his  horse, 
the  saddle  occupied  by  a  little  woman,  to 
whom  he  was  paying  profound  deference.  He 
had  secured  her  services  by  promise  of  liberal 
wage,  and  duly  introduced  her  to  Mike  as  Mrs. 
Ruth  Sage,  originally  from  Boston  and  more 
recently  a  dweller  at  Nevada  City,  intimating 

[90] 


RUTH    PROVES    A    TREASURE 

to  the  lady  that  Mike  was  the  manager  and  re- 
sponsible party,  and  would  arrange  satisfactory 
terms.  His  face  broadened  into  a  grin  as  he 
walked  off  to  find  Tex  and  tell  him  of  the  prize 
secured. 

"Tex,  she's  a  corker.  I  haven't  had  a  chance 
to  speak  a  dozen  words  since  we  left  the  Tent. 
She 's  told  me  her  history  and  her  affairs  from  the 
time  she  was  a  baby  until  her  husband  shook  her 
over  on  Deer  Creek,  basely  deserted  her  without 
cause,  and  left  her  alone  and  unprotected  in  this 
wild  country;  not  that  she  cares,  except  the  time 
wasted  on  that  heartless  man.  Watch  how  she  is 
rounding  up  Mike  under  the  tree.  I  think  she 
is  inquiring  as  to  the  moral  habits  of  the  camp; 
she  is  dead  set  on  a  high  standard." 

It  was  evident  that  she  was  putting  Mike 
through  a  rigid  investigation,  and  he  was  ejacu- 
lating regularly,  "Yes,  ma'am,"  "No,  ma'am," 
with  bewildering  frequency.  That  was  as  far  as 
he  got  in  that  particular  interview,  which  ended 
by  her  being  escorted  to  the  cabin,  into  which 
she  disappeared. 

"Holy  Smoke  1"  cried  Mike,  as  he  joined  the 
laughing  twain,  "did  ye  hear  her?  It  is  a  soci- 
able woman  she  is,  and  she  '11  take  charge  of  the 

[91] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

camp  if  our  characters  are  sich  as  a  lone  widdy 
can  approve.  She  wants  a  stove,  curtains  to 
the  windy,  a  bed,  and  the  cabin  to  herself,  which 
av  coorse  is  proper ;  and  fifty  dollars  a  week  and 
her  kape,  a  man  to  help  pale  the  potatoes  and 
do  the  chores,  the  respect  due  her  sex,  and  'Who  's 
that  f cine-looking  man  alongside  of  Ranee?'  — 
that 's  Tex  she  was  maning  —  and  c  Have  ye  seen 
go  by  on  the  trail  a  round-shouldered,  bald- 
headed  snipe  with  one  tooth  missing,  a  hangdog- 
looking  feller  that  has  lately  desarted  an  affec- 
tionate wife  ? ' ; '  and  Mike  paused  for  breath, 
adding,  "And  if  I  ever  do  mate  that  man  he  has 
me  pity,  and  it 's  a  wurrd  of  sympathy  he  '11  get. 
Tex,  what  is  it  about  ye  that  attracts  lonely 
wimmen?  Sure,  she  has  her  eyes  on  ye,  and  I  'm 
thinking  it's  many  a  chore  you'll  do  for  her  if 
she  stays  wid  us." 

Tex  grinned  at  the  banter  and  declared  him- 
self proof  against  the  wiles  and  fascinations  of 
women.  He  was  introduced  to  the  lady  later; 
and  just  before  sundown  Ranee  nudged  Mike 
and  called  his  attention  to  Tex  wielding  an  axe, 
splitting  firewood,  and  bringing  water  from  the 
spring,  Mrs.  Ruth  brightening  his  task  by  vol- 
uble and  approving  conversation.  It  may  be 

[92] 


RUTH    PROVES    A    TREASURE 

added  that  from  that  time  forward  he  was  her 
willing  slave,  and  that  Ruth  assumed  the  attitude 
toward  him  of  a  mother  hen  to  one  chick. 

She  was  really  a  treasure,  a  nervous,  energetic 
little  body  who  had  Yankee  cooking  at  her  finger 
ends,  from  pie  to  pork  and  molasses,  and  the 
boarding-house  became  famed  for  the  toothsome 
and  substantial  fare  served  to  the  men.  This 
was  no  small  advantage  in  the  operation  of  the 
mine,  as  with  comfortable  quarters  and  bountiful 
appetizing  food,  a  better  class  of  labor  could  be 
secured  and  kept  than  if  conditions  had  been 
different.  In  a  couple  of  weeks  operations  were 
in  full  swing.  A  roomy  boarding-house  was 
completed,  with  private  room  attached  for  the 
occupancy  of  Mrs.  Ruth,  bunk-houses  built  to 
accommodate  forty  men,  to  which  number  the 
force  had  been  increased,  tools  and  supplies  pro- 
cured, and  the  camp  settled  down  to  an  industri- 
ous and  prosperous  career.  Its  picturesqueness 
was  somewhat  added  to  by  a  company  of 
Indians, —  squaws,  bucks,  and  papooses,  a  dozen 
in  count,  who,  camping  on  the  outskirts,  managed 
to  live  from  the  refuse  of  the  camp,  supplemented 
by  spasmodic  hunting  by  the  males,  who  were 
also  suspected  of  sluice-robbing  in  outlying  ra- 

[93] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

vines.  Mrs.  Ruth  pressed  into  service  a  couple 
of  the  squaws,  by  their  aid  undertaking  the 
week's  washing  for  the  camp,  which  not  only  in- 
cluded the  ordinary  woollen  shirt  for  everyday 
wear,  but  a  "biled"  article  for  Sunday.  By 
dividing  the  income  from  this  source  with  her 
dusky  aids,  she  managed  to  hold  them  to  a 
spasmodic  service,  their  only  criticism  on  current 
affairs  being,  "Waugy  woman,  she  heap  talk." 

The  mine,  the  mainspring  of  all  this  activity, 
met  and  exceeded  the  partners'  most  sanguine 
anticipations.  The  working  force  was  divided 
into  day  and  night  gangs  of  a  dozen  each;  four 
men  were  employed  in  cutting  and  rolling  tim- 
bers and  poles  to  the  mine;  the  mysteries  of 
breasting  and  excavating  the  width  of  the  chan- 
nel solved;  and  the  golden  stream  yielded  up  its 
treasure  in  a  volume  most  satisfactory  to  the 
company.  The  daily  clean-up  averaged  about 
a  thousand  dollars,  and  the  total  expense  not 
over  three  hundred.  Mike  was  in  his  glory  as 
a  boss  and  most  popular  in  that  role,  for  he  was 
tactful,  good-humored,  and  had  a  knack  of  get- 
ting the  best  out  of  his  employees.  He  super- 
vised the  inside  operations,  looked  after  the  clean- 
up, and  exercised  a  general  supervision;  while 

[94] 


RUTH     PROVES     A    TREASURE 

to  Tex  was  allotted  the  care  of  operations  dur- 
ing the  night.  The  most  vigilant  attention  to 
affairs  was  required,  as  the  gold  was  coarse,  the 
temptation  to  abstract  a  nugget  'almost  irresist- 
ible; and  despite  the  strictest  precautions  no 
doubt  existed  that  a  percentage  of  the  finds  did 
not  reach  the  owners. 

The  widow  had  fairly  fascinated  the  impres- 
sible Tex,  and  his  afternoons  were  spent  in  her 
company.  His  Texas  war  and  border  adventures 
exorcised  her  garrulity  and  charmed  her  into  an 
occasional  silence;  like  Desdemona,  she  listened 
to  his  story  and  swore, 

"In  faith,  'twas  strange,  'twas  passing  strange, 
'Twas  pitiful,  'twas  wondrous  pitiful," 

as  she  lamented  secretly  that  Heaven  had  not 
given  her  such  a  husband  as  this  instead  of 
the  mean-spirited,  meek  absconder,  whose  only 
exhibition  of  independence  had  been  to  pluck  up 
the  courage  to  desert  her  and  heartlessly  leave 
her  alone  and  unprotected  in  the  midst  of  a  law- 
less community. 

Life  in  the  camp  dropped  into  a  rut  of  con- 
tinued prosperity,  with  no  interruption  to  the 
idyllic  conditions;  in  this  hive  of  industry  Ranee 
was  the  only  idler.  It  had  been  his  intention, 

[95] 


THE       CITY       OF       SIX 

when  the  winter's  work  was  over  and  the  several 
partners'  interests  in  the  results  settled,  to  go 
to  San  Francisco  for  a  prolonged  and  perhaps 
permanent  stay.  The  absurdity  of  his  occupa- 
tion as  cook,  in  contrast  with  the  life  he  had  led 
on  the  Mississippi  plantation  and  at  college,  was 
so  utterly  at  variance  with  his  preconceived  ideas 
of  a  career,  that  at  times  his  soul  revolted,  and 
only  by  the  exercise  of  a  strong  will  had  he  been 
prevented  from  quitting  the  job  and  departing 
for  the  lowlands.  However,  he  had  reasoned 
that  by  holding  on  the  spring  would  find  him 
with  a  fair  competence,  enough  at  least  to  live 
like  a  gentleman  until  a  more  congenial  avenue 
opened  up;  and  it  was  this  anticipation  that  had 
given  him  the  requisite  patience.  Now,  all  this 
was  changed.  Ruth  sniffed  when  he  invaded  her 
kitchen  and  refused  to  believe  that  he  had  been 
a  success  in  the  culinary  department. 

"Dear  me,  what  messes  you  must  have  made, 
and  how  your  partners  must  have  suffered !  It 's 
a  wonder  to  me  you  didn't  poison  'em,"  com- 
mented the  bustling  little  body.  "You  needn't 
tell  me,  I  know  you  did  not  wash  a  dish  nor 
scour  a  pot  all  winter.  I  had  to  soak  'em  all  in 
lye  before  they  were  fit  to  use.  Men  cooks !  Men 

[96] 


RUTH    PROVES    A    TREASURE 

ain't  made  to  cook,  nor  ain't  good  for  much  else 
that  I  can  see,  except  outdoor  work.  I  despise 
to  have  'em  around." 

To  all  of  which  Ranee  listened  complacently, 
for  he  knew  that  despite  the  fact  that  it  was  ten 
o'clock  and  long  past  breakfast  time,  Ruth  had 
kept  the  coffee  warm,  and  that  he  would  be  pro- 
vided with  a  cup  of  that  beverage,  hot  and 
fragrant,  together  with  a  crisp  biscuit,  and  a  dis- 
sertation on  his  utter  shiftlessness  and  inconsid- 
erateness  in  interrupting  the  busy  preparations 
for  dinner. 

"You  are  about  as  lazy  and  good-for-nothing 
as  my  Ithuriel  Abner  Sage,  and  goodness  knows 
he  didn't  deserve  to  have  as  good  a  wife  as  I 
was  to  him.  Why  don't  you  take  pattern  after 
Mr.  Texas,  who  works  all  night  in  that  horrid 
wet  tunnel?  He  don't  come  around  at  all  hours, 
tracking  up  my  kitchen." 


[97] 


CHAPTER   X 

RANGE  MAKES  SOME  NEW  FRIENDS 

T)  ANCE  was  polite  enough  to  allow  Mrs. 
Ruth  liberty  of  speech,  for  notwithstanding 
her  lecture  she  liked  him  and  his  ways  and 
looked  after  his  comfort  as  assiduously  as  if 
he  was  the  most  industrious  bee  in  the  hive, 
or  rather  as  a  privileged  drone,  exempt  from 
toil.  He  could  hardly  explain  to  himself 
why  he  lingered,  a  mere  looker-on  in  the  busy 
camp,  unless  because  he  could  idle  and  loaf 
without  any  compunction  of  conscience  and 
enjoy  the  charm  of  the  mountains.  The  absence 
of  the  trammels  of  civilization,  the  irresponsi- 
bility of  it  all,  appealed  to  him.  If  he  tired 
of  The  City  of  Six,  he  had  but  to  saddle  his 
horse  and  ride  away  over  the  'ridge  to  any  one 
of  a  half-dozen  bustling,  thriving  mining  towns, 
where  many  experiences  were  to  be  had,  where 
life  was  keyed  up  to  the  highest  pitch  of  excite- 
ment, where  Fortune  distributed  her  favors  with 
lavish  profusion,  where  the  passions  of  men  ran 
riot,  and  where,  free  from  Puritanical  prejudices 

[98] 


RANGE    MAKES    NEW   FRIENDS 

and  galling  conventionalities,  humanity  exulted 
in  its  freedom  and  celebrated  its  liberty  in  ex- 
travagancies of  action  that  in  later  staid  and 
sober  times  became  traditions,  the  veracity  of 
which  is  doubtfully  admitted. 

In  this,  Ranee  was  more  of  an  on-looker  than 
participant.  The  rude  amusements  of  the  times 
did  not  appeal  to  him  so  much  as  the  odd  char- 
acters that  he  met;  and  in  his  wanderings  he 
struck  up  a  few  friendships.  Singularly,  the 
most  intimate  for  a  time  was  with  the  man  who 
was  recognized  as  the  boss  gambler  of  the  region. 
In  the  heterogeneous  elements  that  were  thrown 
together  in  the  fifties,  and  in  a  society  that  in  its 
standards  upset  all  previously  conceived  ideas, 
the  high-toned  sporting  man  easily  led  all  classes 
in  commanding  and  receiving  the  homage  of  a 
majority  of  the  community.  This  does  not  imply 
that  all  gamblers  were  respected;  on  the  con- 
trary, toleration  described  the  attitude,  for  as  a 
class  they  were  outside  the  pale.  There  were 
the  "bad  men,"  the  desperadoes,  who  in  drunken 
frenzy  proclaimed  themselves  as  "chiefs"  and 
ran  amuck  among  their  fellows,  until  the  thrust 
of  a  knife  or  a  well-aimed  bullet  laid  them  low. 
The  slayers  were  seldom  punished ;  it  was  usually 

[89] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

a  case  of  self-defence ;  their  loss  was  a  gain,  and 
so  regarded  outside  their  own  circle.  Hundreds 
of  these  characters  flourished  for  a  brief  time, 
glorying  in  the  unenviable  reputation  of  killers 
of  men,  drunk  with  a  bastard  courage  that  must 
be  publicly  proclaimed  with  insistent  repetition 
in  order  to  sustain  it,  heroes  among  their  kind 
for  the  coolness  displayed  in  their  bloody  en- 
counters, until  they  were  gradually  exterminated, 
or,  the  fallen  fortunes  of  the  camp  diminishing 
the  number  of  their  admirers,  emigrated  to  fresh 
fields  east  of  the  Sierras. 

Then  there  were  the  crooked  sports  still  lower 
down  in  the  scale,  those  who  conducted  "brace" 
faro  games,  "rang  in  cold  decks"  in  a  poker 
game,  cogged  the  dice,  or  tampered  with  the 
roulette  wheel.  While  they  reaped  a  big  harvest, 
yet  they  were  despised  and  outlawed,  occupying 
about  the  same  position  in  public  estimation  as 
the  highwayman  who  robbed  on  the  trails  and 
squandered  his  plunder  in  the  gaming-houses. 
Lowest  of  all  were  the  riff-raff,  the  hangers-on, 
who  managed  to  exist  from  the  chance  crumbs 
that  fell  in  their  way,  appropriating  others'  bets, 
robbing  drunken  miners,  and,  when  driven  to  it, 
stealing  out  into  the  night  and  under  cover  of  the 

[100] 


RANGE    MAKES    NEW   FRIENDS 

darkness  cleaning  up  the  sluices  in  the  creeks  and 
gulches.  They  were  execrated  and  detested,  and, 
when  caught,  were  in  some  cases  hung,  and  in 
others  publicly  flogged  and  banished. 

Yet  as  each  camp  had  its  "chief,"  so  it  had  its 
leading  professional,  and  no  man  stood  higher 
than  Ranee's  new-found  friend.  He  associated 
on  an  equality  with  the  judge,  the  lawyers,  the 
merchant;  he  projected  into  his  avocation  cool 
judgment,  mathematical  calculation  of  the  per- 
centage in  his  favor,  a  rigid  honesty  in  his  busi- 
ness (a  suspicion  of  unfairness  would  at  once 
tumble  him  from  his  pedestal),  nerve  that  never 
failed  him  on  the  most  trying  occasion,  and  a 
creed  summed  up  tersely  by  his  acquaintances, 
"  His  word  is  as  good  as  a  bond."  That  was  his 
capital  and  his  religion,  for  if  by  a  chance  run 
of  bad  luck  his  game  went  broke,  the  resources 
of  the  town  were  at  his  call,  the  banker  and  the 
merchant  gladly  extended  the  needed  replenish- 
ment of  coin  and  the  game  went  on  despite  the 
vicissitudes  of  fortune.  In  truth,  there  was  no 
risk,  for  in  the  long  run  the  legitimate  percentage 
in  favor  of  the  bank  never  failed  to  recoup  tem- 
porary losses.  In  fact,  there  was  no  such  thing 
as  luck  in  the  business  so  long  as  there  were  suffi- 

[101] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

cient  funds  to  meet  incidental  fluctuations ;  it  was 
only  when  the  professionals  grew  reckless,  and, 
tiring  of  the  monotony  of  their  legitimate  pur- 
suit, indulged  in  speculative  forays  against  rival 
games  that  they  came  to  pecuniary  grief.  They 
were  distinguished  by  another  characteristic,  the 
neatness  of  their  personal  attire.  In  the  fifties, 
black  broadcloth  was  de  rigueur — frock  coat, 
low-cut  vest,  neat-fitting  trousers,  a  tight  high- 
heel  boot,  and  a  stiff  hat  of  ample  brim  and  crown. 
This  latter  was  known  as  a  "Peruvian  som- 
brero," in  color  a  terra-cotta  shade,  a  ponderous, 
uncomfortable  headgear  affected  by  the  gambler 
and  the  old-time  stage-driver.  They  were  im- 
maculate also  as  to  shirt  front,  which,  with  high 
old-fashioned  collar  and  flowing  black  necktie, 
relieved  somewhat  the  stiffness  of  the  attire  — 
"biled  shirts,"  the  miners  ironically  called  them. 
In  the  Southern  counties  the  polished  bosoms 
were  replaced  by  the  elaborately  ruffled  shirt 
fronts  and  cuffs  worn  by  the  elderly,  staid,  and 
dignified  Southerners.  The  latter  were  lovable 
old  fellows  who  practised  a  little  law,  played  a 
little  "brag"  (a  Southern  game  that  antedated 
and  rivalled  poker  in  the  South,  but  is  now  obso- 
lete and  forgotten),  ran  for  office,  carried  a 

[102] 


RANGE    MAKES    NEW    FRIENDS 

crooked-handled  cane  that  could  be  hung  on  the 
arm  when  necessary,  and  drank  deep  and  often. 
They  were  fierce  politicians  who  glorified  Cal- 
houn  and  despised  the  Northern  "mudsill,"  yet 
did  not  carry  contempt  so  far  as  to  refuse  a  casual 
invitation  to  drink  extended  by  the  hated  Yankee. 
Poor  old  boys,  they  often  degenerated  into  shabby 
barnacles  and  sank  into  paupers'  graves. 

Ranee  in  his  wanderings  crossed  the  middle 
fork  of  the  Yuba  and  climbed  the  steep  trail  that 
followed  the  bends  of  Bloody  Run,  arriving  at 
Moore's  Flat,  a  camp  on  the  slope  of  the  ridge. 
Here  were  gathered  a  couple  of  thousand  men  — 
miners,  gamblers,  Greasers,  merchants,  and  pub- 
licans, Jew,  Gentile,  and  aboriginal,  a  half-dozen 
females  who  were  respectable,  and  a  half -hundred 
who  had  no  claim  to  that  distinction.  It  was  a 
motley  mass  of  fortune-seekers,  strung  up  to 
concert  pitch  by  the  fabulous  yield  of  the  recently 
discovered  ancient  channels  in  the  vicinity,  the 
majority  toiling  by  day  and  roistering  by  night, 
gathering  rich  returns  for  their  labor  and  throw- 
ing their  gains  to  the  winds  —  an  eager,  restless 
lot  whose  philosophy  coincided  with  that  of  the 
Horatian  creed:  "To-morrow  do  thy  worst,  for 
I  have  lived  to-day." 

[103] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

Lounging  on  the  hotel  porch  one  morning, 
looking  up  and  down  the  one  main  straggling 
street,  which  was  deserted  except  for  a  few  loaf- 
ers who  loitered  around  the  saloon  doors,  Ranee 
noted  a  group  of  roughs  busily  engaged,  as  he 
supposed,  petting  a  dog.  He  was  quickly  un- 
deceived as  to  their  kindly  intentions  when,  loos- 
ing the  poor  cur,  it  came  dashing  down  the  street 
in  an  agony  of  terror,  a  fright  caused  by  the 
attachment  of  a  tin  can  to  its  tail.  Scared  into 
a  frenzy  by  the  rattling,  bounding  appendage, 
the  animal  ran  along  the  thoroughfare,  turned, 
dashed  back  again,  and,  utterly  spent,  took  ref- 
uge under  the  steps  leading  up  to  the  porch  of 
the  inn.  Ranee,  who  had  watched  the  perform- 
ance, viewed  with  disgust  the  loafers  who  had 
perpetrated  it.  Pitying  the  frightened  beast,  he 
at  once  went  to  its  rescue  and,  with  difficulty 
coaxing  it  from  its  hiding-place,  he  whipped  out 
his  pocket-knife  and  cut  away  the  rope.  He  had 
barely  completed  his  charitable  action  when  half 
a  dozen  of  the  fellows  drew  near,  one  of  them 
demanding  what  he  meant  by  interfering  with 
their  pastime,  at  the  same  time  attempting  to 
seize  the  frightened  dog.  Ranee's  temper  was  up, 
and  oblivious  of  any  risk,  he  warned  them  to 

[104] 


RANGE    MAKES    NEW   FRIENDS 

keep  their  hands  off,  at  the  same  time  using  some 
vigorous  and  forcible  language  in  denouncing 
their  so-called  sport.  There  was  every  chance 
for  a  nasty  row,  as  numbers  gave  them  courage ; 
and  with  ugly  demeanor  and  characteristic  clutch 
of  pistol  hand  to  side  pocket  they  were  on  the 
brink  of  precipitating  an  attack,  hesitating  for 
a  moment  as  Ranee  drew  his  six-shooter,  when  a 
commanding  voice  sang  out:  "Vamos,  you  dirty 
loafers!"  They  seemed  to  recognize  the  author- 
ity of  the  speaker,  for  with  one  accord  they 
slunk  away  to  their  retreats,  leaving  Ranee  and 
the  dog  to  their  own  devices.  Ranee  turned  to 
see  who  had  wrought  this  sudden  change  in  the 
intentions  of  his  assailants  and  noted,  leaning 
lazily  against  an  upholding  post  of  the  porch,  a 
man  some  thirty-odd  years  of  age,  a  tall,  well- 
knit  figure  clad  in  the  conventional  black  affected 
by  the  devotees  of  fortune — evidently  one  of 
those  gentlemen  of  leisure  who,  ostensibly  con- 
ducting games  of  chance,  were  really  exponents 
of  certainties,  in  short,  a  faro  banker,  and  as  it 
happened,  the  leading  one  of  the  region  round- 
about. There  was  a  look  out  of  a  pair  of  gray 
eyes  that  seemed  capable  of  gazing  at  the  sun 
without  wavering,  a  square-set  chin,  and  a  face 

[105] 


THE       CITY        OF       SIX 

pallid,  almost  bloodless  and  emotionless.  The 
pallor  was  due  doubtless  to  the  long  night  ses- 
sions in  the  crowded  gaming-house,  the  sunless, 
ill-ventilated  precincts  of  which  were  not  calcu- 
lated to  tinge  the  cheek  of  its  habitue  with  health- 
ful color.  Looking  lazily  at  the  retreating  crowd 
and  then  glancing  at  Ranee,  he  said, 

"I  beg  your  pardon  for  interfering.  The 
chances  are  the  coyotes  would  not  have  jumped 
you,  but  they  might ;  I  hope  you  will  not  take  it 
as  discourteous." 

"They  not  only  might,  but  they  surely  would," 
retorted  Ranee,  "but  I  could  not  stand  by  and 
see  a  poor  dog  persecuted." 

He  smiled  at  the  stranger  and  then  at  the  ani- 
mal, which  with  that  intuition  that  is  given  to 
dogs,  recognized  in  his  rescuer  a  friend,  and  with 
violent  wagging  of  tail  and  contortions  of  body 
was  doing  his  best  to  demonstrate  that  he  under- 
stood and  was  thankful  for  the  obligations  he  had 
been  placed  under.  He  was  not  a  bad-looking 
dog  by  any  means,  evidently  a  stray  from  some 
other  camp,  abashed  by  his  unfriendly  reception 
and  only  wanting  a  pat  on  the  head  and  a  kind 
word  to  restore  his  self-esteem,  and  ready  to 
attach  himself  to  Ranee  at  an  encouraging  word. 

[106] 


RANGE  MAKES  NEW  FRIENDS 

"Risk  or  no  risk,  it  was  the  act  of  a  good  fel- 
low and  I  would  like  to  shake  hands  with  you; 
I  'm  Phillips,  Brant  Phillips,"  with  a  barely  per- 
ceptible smile  extending  his  hand. 

Ranee  took  the  offered  member,  white  and  deli- 
cate, but  the  grasp  proved  to  be  a  nervous, 
powerful  clasp  that  made  Ranee's  fingers  tingle. 
The  two  men  looked  in  each  other's  eyes,  glances 
that  measured  the  depths,  and  were  at  once  in 
accord. 

"I  might  ask  you  in  to  take  a  drink,"  said 
Phillips,  "but  really  I  am  the  only  temperance 
man  in  the  town.  Drinking  interferes  with  my 
business,  but  I  can  offer  you  a  good  cigar,"  draw- 
ing a  case  from  his  pocket  and  proffering  an 
imported  weed,  which  Ranee  accepted. 

Drawing  together  two  armchairs,  they  sat 
them  down,  the  dog  between,  and  were  soon  deep 
in  mutual  confidences;  or  rather,  the  impulsive 
Ranee  told  of  his  wanderings,  adventures,  and 
fortunes,  his  companion,  with  occasional  com- 
ment lending  a  sympathetic  ear.  When  Ranee 
alluded  to  his  determination  at  one  time  to  be- 
come a  professional  card-player  and  his  turning 
cook  instead,  Phillips  congratulated  him  on  his 
choice. 

[107] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

"Don't  do  it,"  he  commented;  "I  suppose  I 
am  the  loneliest  man  on  the  ridge,  forced  to  as- 
sociate with  a  lot  of  hounds  who  are  only  fit  to 
people  hell,  or  foolish  miners  who  have  not  got 
sense  enough  to  know  they  have  no  chance 
against  the  game;  ostracized  justly  by  the  decent 
element,  and  degraded  by  the  company  of  the 
rest.  If  I  did  not  know  that  I  would  abandon 
it  after  a  while,  and  that  I  follow  it  because  to 
me  it  is  the  shortest  road  to  independence,  I 
would  walk  down  into  the  ravine  and  put  a  bullet 
through  my  heart." 

Ranee  wondered  at  the  vehemence  and  bitter- 
ness of  his  companion's  remarks,  and  dropping 
the  subject,  wandered  into  more  congenial  topics. 
Supping  together,  a  meal  in  which  the  dog  was 
a  bountiful  participant,  they  parted  with  a  prom- 
ise of  another  meeting,  and  Ranee  saddled  his 
horse  and  took  the  trail  for  home,  the  moon  light- 
ing up  the  path  and  the  forest  —  a  lonely  ride, 
but  not  alone.  The  grateful  dog  had  found  his 
master,  and  The  City  of  Six  became  his  abiding- 
place. 


[108] 


CHAPTER    XI 

MIKE  IS  A  MODEL  MINE-MANAGER 

TV/TIKE,  who,  except  by  Ranee  and  Tex,  was 
called  Mr.  Donovan,  had  by  his  energy 
transformed  the  plateau  at  the  head  of  Slug 
Canyon  into  a  model  mining  camp.  Work  was 
carried  on  inside  the  mine  in  a  systematic  way 
as  he  became  more  familiar  with  the  require- 
ments; the  science  of  timbering,  capping,  and 
breasting,  and  the  necessity  of  taking  out  six  or 
eight  feet  thick  and  a  hundred  feet  wide  of  pay 
gravel,  became  less  and  less  a  problem.  In  a 
stretch  of  fifteen  miles,  from  The  City  of  Six  on 
the  north  to  Orleans  Flat  on  the  south,  the  chan- 
nel of  the  old  dead  river  had  been  traced  and 
opened  where  the  canyons,  creeks,  and  river  had 
cut  through  and  below  its  old  bed.  At  Forest 
City,  Chipp's  Flat,  Alleghany,  Minnesota,  and 
Moore's  Flat,  busy  and  prosperous  camps  had 
sprung  up,  dozens  of  companies  were  delving  in 
the  old  river  bed,  and  the  returns  were  enormous. 
Intelligent  and  inventive  brains  directed  opera- 


[100] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

tions,  and  an  interchange  of  experience  gave  all 
the  benefit  of  the  knowledge  acquired. 

Mike  was  in  his  element,  carrying  the  respon- 
sibility of  manager  and  performing  the  duties 
devolving  upon  him  with  an  adaptability  that  was 
at  once  a  surprise  and  gratification  to  his  associ- 
ates. Those  who  in  after  years  recalled  the 
masterly  way  in  which  he  handled  the  company's 
property  and  affairs  saw  in  it  the  budding  of  a 
career  that  a  decade  or  so  later  made  him  the  fore- 
most mine-manager  in  the  world,  a  man  with  a 
grasp  of  affairs,  an  intuition  as  to  probabilities 
and  values,  that  rewarded  him  in  the  end  with 
wealth  almost  beyond  the  dream  of  avarice.  In 
his  old  age  —  and  he  was  generous,  big-hearted 
Mike  to  the  last — he  was  fond  of  recurring  to 
The  City  of  Six  and  its  memories  and  insisting 
that  in  the  light  of  the  meagre  knowledge  existing 
at  that  time,  the  problems  were  more  formidable, 
the  apparent  obstacles  more  serious  to  overcome, 
and  the  conquering  of  them  more  of  an  achieve- 
ment, than  when  later  he  bore  on  his  shoulders 
the  burden  of  the  development  and  operation  of 
the  greatest  mine  and  lode  the  world  had  ever 
seen.  And  he  would  add  with  a  sigh,  that  those 
were  the  happy  days,  when  it  began  to  dawn  upon 

[no] 


A      MODEL      MINE-MANAGER 

him  that  wealth  was  power,  and  when  riches  had 
not  become  a  burden. 

Not  so  with  Tex;  ambition  did  not  stir  nor 
greed  oppress  him.  To  be  sure  he  was  rapidly 
becoming  a  rich  man,  and  he  sometimes  wondered 
what  he  would  do  with  all  his  money.  Mining 
of  itself  had  little  attraction  for  him,  and  if  he 
had  any  day-dreams  it  was  the  conjuring  up  of 
visions  of  the  grassy  plains  of  Texas,  with  herds 
of  cattle  grazing  over  a  vast  area  and  himself 
as  the  lazy  lord  and  proprietor  of  the  range.  The 
vision  was  too  intangible  to  take  definite  shape 
in  his  brain,  and  a  sharp  word  from  Ruth  recalled 
him  to  realities.  Insensibly  that  energetic  little 
woman  dominated  Tex  and  his  affairs  without 
remonstrance  from  him.  He  had  no  inclination 
to  protest,  as  it  was  a  most  novel  and  agreeable 
situation.  Women  had  played  but  small  part  in 
his  life,  and  good  women  none.  In  the  border 
days,  down  on  the  Rio  Grande,  and  afterward 
with  the  army  in  Mexico,  a  brown  face  and  a 
pair  of  flashing  black  eyes  had  stirred  his  passion ; 
but  in  those  strenuous  times  he  had  not  lingered 
long  enough  to  form  any  serious  attachment,  and 
in  California  the  absence  of  the  sex  had  not  been 
a  deprivation;  but  Ruth  was  a  revelation,  a  dif- 

[in] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

ferent  species  from  what  he  had  previously  met. 
Her  sharp  tongue  stirred  his  mental  processes; 
her  fluent  speech,  even  when  going  over  a  cate- 
gory of  his  deficiencies,  was  not  unpleasant,  nor 
did  he  resent  her  quasi  assumption  of  authority 
over  him. 

"  Sakes,  you  are  the  most  shiftless  man  I  ever 
met,"  she  exhorted,  "loafing  around  here  on  the 
Lord's  Day  in  your  weekday  duds,  and  a  white 
shirt  ready  to  put  on.  I'm  not  going  to  work 
my  fingers  to  the  bone,  washing  and  ironing, 
sending  for  starch  clear  to  Sacramento,  and  you 
and  the  rest  of  'em  too  lazy  to  spruce  up  and 
look  decent." 

"Who  wants  to  put  on  a  biled  shirt?"  retorted 
Tex,  hastening  to  add  apologetically,  "  Of  course, 
Mrs.  Ruth,  I  don't  mind,  but  the  men  are  growl- 
ing and  swearing  that  they  don't  hire  out  to  dress 
like  gamblers  of  a  Sunday." 

"Better  look  like  gamblers  than  pigs,"  she 
snorted.  "Mercy,  where  did  they  come  from,  and 
what  sort  of  a  bringing  up  did  they  have?  Of 
course,  it 's  none  of  my  business,  and  Mr.  Don- 
ovan is  a  little  uppish  because  I  try  to  have  the 
camp  decent ;  well,  if  you  don't  like  it  get  another 
boarding-house  keeper  —  I'm  sure,  if  I  can't 

[112] 


A     MODEL      MINE-MANAGER 

have  proper  respect  shown  me,  I  don't  want  to 
stay." 

"Bern  it  all,"  replied  Tex,  to  whose  mind  came 
an  unusual  pang  at  the  thought  of  Ruth's  pos- 
sible leaving,  "we'll  wear  biled  shirts  to  sleep  in, 
if  that  will  please  you ;  but  you  want  to  look  out 
for  that  box  of  starch, —  if  the  men  find  out 
where  you  keep  it,  it  will  disappear,"  and  he 
chuckled  as  he  recalled  incipient  plots  that  had 
for  their  object  the  abstraction  and  destruction 
of  that  despised  accessory  to  torture. 

Ruth  had  as  little  intention  of  going  away  as 
Mike  of  dispensing  with  her  services.  She  was 
invaluable  in  her  department;  and  while  some 
of  the  more  sensitive  winced  at  her  cutting  re- 
marks and  entertained  rebellious  thoughts,  after 
all  there  was  no  table  so  bountifully  supplied  with 
appetizing  and  daintily  cooked  food  in  all  that 
region  roundabout,  and  the  appeal  to  their  stom- 
achs was  persuasive  and  irresistible. 

Her  liking  and  open  preference  for  Tex  was 
too  plainly  indicated  to  be  ignored,  although 
there  was  no  breath  of  scandal  in  it. 

"I  wonder  how  she  is  going  to  fix  it;  she'll 
sure  get  a  divorce,  and  Tex  is  the  widow's  meat," 
commented  one  of  the  boarders. 

[113] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

"Well,  why  not?"  replied  another.  "If  I  had 
a  wife  who  could  cook  like  the  widow,  she  could 
nag  from  hell  to  breakfast;  I'd  stand  for  it  if 
for  nothing  else  than  them  doughnuts  and  pud- 
ding wot  she  gives  us  for  Sunday  dinner." 

"Yes,  her  grub  is  a  set-off,  for  a  fact ;  but  her 
hubby  couldn't  stand  it  —  he  skipped." 

This  mild  sort  of  gossip,  even  if  it  came  to 
their  ears,  did  not  disturb  Ruth  or  Tex.  Truth 
was  they  had  come  to  an  understanding.  The 
widow  was  to  ask  for  a  legal  separation  at  the 
next  term  of  court  —  there  was  no  doubt  of  its 
being  granted, —  and  in  the  fall  they  would  join 
hands  and  fortunes.  Tex,  like  Barkis,  was  will- 
ing and  happy  in  the  prospect,  and  left  the  mat- 
ter entirely  with  Ruth. 

It  may  be  added  that  in  after  years,  when  the 
cattle  ranch  from  a  dream  became  a  reality, 
although  the  Coast  Range  was  its  location  instead 
of  the  Lone  Star  State,  Tex  never  regretted 
having  been  led  into  captivity  by  the  little  widow, 
nor  did  he  resent  her  oft-iterated  statement  that 
she  had  made  a  man  of  him.  If  the  domestic 
atmosphere  became  clouded  and  Ruth  fretted  and 
fumed  over  his  shortcomings,  there  was  a  stout 


[114] 


A     MODEL      MINE-MANAGER 

mustang  to  ride,  a  thousand  cattle  to  look  after, 
and  a  dash  over  the  ranch  dispelled  any  little 
annoyance  arising  from  his  wife's  ill  temper, — 
"The  little  woman  does  n't  mean  anything,  it's 
just  her  nature." 


[115] 


CHAPTER    XII 

BANCE'S  GAMBLING  FRIEND  VISITS  THE  CAMP 

"1TITHEN  Ranee  returned  with  his  newly  ac- 
quired follower,  the  rescued  dog,  he  found 
awaiting  him  a  letter  from  Wakefield,  which 
brought  the  information  of  the  latter's  intention 
of  returning  to  California  before  the  close  of  the 
summer.  He  had  found  his  wife  in  failing  health, 
afflicted  with  a  pulmonary  trouble,  and  the  phy- 
sicians had  advised  her  that  a  journey  to  a  milder 
climate  was  the  only  hope  of  a  cure.  The 
daughter,  he  wrote,  had  grown  to  be  almost  a 
young  woman,  had  graduated  from  the  village 
academy,  and  was  wild  over  the  prospect  of  a 
trip  to  the  Far  West.  It  was  fable  land  to  the 
slow-witted  plodders  of  her  birthplace,  and  her 
girl  associates  feigned  a  pity  that  was  nearer 
envy,  that  she  should  be  condemned  to  exile  in  a 
barbarous,  and,  if  the  tales  told  were  true,  mon- 
strously uncivilized  and  irreligious  land.  Wake- 
field  requested  that  a  suitable  shelter  be  provided 
for  his  little  family,  as  he  was  convinced  that  the 
pure  mountain  air  and  the  healing  winds  through 

[116] 


RANGE'S    GAMBLING    FRIEND 

the  pines  were  the  medicine  his  helpmeet  needed, 
and  he  appealed  to  his  comrade  to  make  it  as 
comfortable  as  possible. 

Here  was  a  congenial  occupation  for  Ranee, 
and  with  the  hearty  co-operation  of  Mike  and 
Tex,  he  at  once  set  about  building  a  nest.  Ruth 
sniffed  over  this  prospective  invasion  by  an  in- 
valid, and  declared  that  she  would  not  wait  on 
her;  then  she  belied  her  words  by  feminine  sug- 
gestions of  indispensable  furnishings  of  a  variety 
and  kind  that  had  not  occurred  to  the  untutored 
minds  of  her  male  friends. 

In  the  prosperity  of  the  camp,  Ruth  had  be- 
come more  of  a  directress  than  a  worker.  A 
wandering  Chinaman,  tired  of  the  rude  buffet- 
ings  and  inhospitable  treatment  of  white  men, 
had  become  her  chief  aid,  and  was  by  her  initiated 
into  the  mysteries  of  the  culinary  art. 

"She  belly  good  woman,  she  talkee,  talkee, 
talkee,  allee  same  to  me,"  commented  Tong. 
"She  no  letee  Melican  man  foolee,  me  get 
bundled  dollah  month;  bime-by  allee  same  cook 
like  Missy  Luth,  get  two  bundled  dollah,  suppose 
all  time  talkee  me  stay." 

The  squaws  had  also  found  life  fairly  attract- 
ive at  the  camp,  and  although  they  had  a  discon- 

[117] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

certing  way  of  wandering  off  when  Ruth  became 
too  strenuous  in  her  role,  the  bucks,  who  pre- 
ferred the  crumbs  and  leavings  of  the  boarding- 
house  to  an  acorn  diet,  rounded  them  up  and 
drove  them  back  to  their  tasks.  "Lo  the  poor 
Indian"  was  too  lazy  or  too  proud  to  lend  a 
hand,  although  finding  it  most  congenial  to  live 
upon  the  increment  of  his  squaw's  labors,  and 
he  was  inclined  to  strictly  enforce  a  domestic 
discipline  that  provided  a  substitute  for  the 
hitherto  necessary  annual  grasshopper  and  pine- 
nut  harvest. 

A  site  for  the  house  was  selected  in  a  secluded 
portion  of  the  plateau  away  from  the  mine  and 
the  cluster  of  habitations  around  it,  a  nook  close 
under  the  ridge  and  in  the  midst  of  a  group  of 
lofty  pines.  Much  more  care  was  bestowed  on 
the  structure  than  had  been  given  to  the  con- 
struction of  the  other  cabins.  The  logs  of  which  it 
was  built  were  squared  and  jointed;  a  real  board 
floor  was  laid  from  planks  packed  with  infinite 
trouble  and  difficulty  from  a  sawmill  a  dozen 
miles  away;  double  sash  windows  and  panelled 
doors,  hitherto  unknown  outside  of  the  county 
town,  added  a  touch  of  elegance  and  modernity; 
and  the  camp  carpenter  exhausted  his  skill  and 

[118] 


RANGE'S    GAMBLING   FRIEND 

invention  in  handy  shelves  and  closets,  the  latter 
by  direct  intervention  of  Ruth,  who  declared 
that  one  of  her  most  acute  trials  had  been  the  lack 
of  this  necessary  provision  for  comfort  in  the 
rude  dwellings  in  which  she  had  been  forced  to 
abide.  The  house  completed,  there  came  the 
furnishing,  and  here  Ruth  was  again  indispen- 
sable. After  many  long  and  serious  consulta- 
tions, she  was  finally  despatched  to  Sacramento 
with  a  carte  blanche  to  buy  and  forward  by  mule 
team  a  long  list  of  furniture  and  furnishings,  an 
errand  that  she  accomplished  with  celerity  and 
excellent  judgment.  These  were  in  due  time 
delivered  at  the  terminus  of  the  wagon  road,  some 
ten  miles  distant  down  the  ridge,  and  from  that 
point  packed  in  by  mule  train  and  safely  housed. 
When  finished,  it  was  really  a  most  comfortable 
and  attractive  dwelling.  Ruth  added  the  ulti- 
mate touches  in  the  way  of  upholstery  and  adorn- 
ment, such  as  snow-white  counterpane  and  ruffled 
pillowcases  on  the  bed,  a  cushion  in  the  one  rock- 
ing-chair thoughtfully  provided  for  the  invalid, 
and  a  doormat  which  she  insisted  should  be  used 
before  the  slovenly  and  careless  male  was  granted 
admittance.  Mike  pronounced  it  fit  for  an  Irish 
king,  and  even  Ranee  was  impressed  by  the  un- 

[119] 


THE       CITY        OF       SIX 

wonted  luxury  and  felt  that  in  his  mode  of  living 
he  was  sacrificing  to  his  pagan  love  of  nature's 
beauties  the  real  comforts  of  life. 

Perhaps  it  was  this  sense  of  loss  that,  when 
there  came  another  letter  from  Wakefield  an- 
nouncing the  exact  date  of  his  departure,  it  not 
only  reconciled  but  made  him  eager  for  a  journey 
to  San  Francisco  to  meet  and  welcome  back  his 
partner  and  family;  and  while  a  month  would 
elapse  before  their  arrival  he  felt  that  meanwhile 
he  deserved  and  could  enjoy  the  distractions  and 
dissipations  of  a  visit  to  the  city. 

Incidentally,  during  the  time  occupied  in  the 
building  of  the  new  house,  he  had  ridden  over  to 
Moore's  Flat,  renewed  his  acquaintance  with  his 
sporting  friend,  and  induced  that  busy  man  to 
abandon  for  a  day  or  more  his  avocation  (there 
were  trusted  lieutenants  who  could  be  depended 
upon  for  carrying  on  the  games)  and  accept  the 
hospitalities  of  The  City  of  Six.  Brant  enjoyed 
more  than  he  cared  to  tell  this  surcease  from  his 
predatory  occupation.  Here  was  a  spot  where 
the  dissipated  miner,  the  camp  loafer,  and  the 
unsexed  women  were  not,  an  ideal  retreat  from 
which  was  absent  the  glaring  vulgarity  and 


[120] 


RANGE'S    GAMBLING    FRIEND 

flaunting  barbarism  of  the  ridge  towns,  a  little 
community  that  was  singular  in  its  orderliness. 

Mike,  who  was  an  absolute  dictator  in  his 
realm,  had  resisted  an  invasion  of  the  whiskey- 
seller  and  the  followers  in  his  wake,  had  dis- 
couraged and  weeded  out  the  drunken  and  im- 
provident worker,  and  by  reason  of  high  wages 
and  good  fare  had  gathered  around  him  a  su- 
perior force  of  temperate  men.  They  were  by  no 
means  saints,  but  they  were  above  the  average, 
and  after  a  time  came  to  have  an  honest  pride  in 
their  little  hamlet,  a  pride  that  when  the  restraints 
became  a  trifle  irksome  and  they  sought  relaxa- 
tion and  yielded  to  temptation  when  visiting 
near-by  camps,  led  them  to  boasting  of  the 
superiority  of  their  abiding-place.  This  so  jarred 
on  the  feelings  of  their  neighbors  that  the  visitors 
were  often  compelled  to  uphold  their  vauntings 
by  force  of  arms,  and  many  a  rough  and  tumble 
encounter  resulted.  It,  however,  was  the  proper 
local  pride  as  well  as  the  taste  of  a  strenuous 
pleasure  denied  them  in  their  own  community. 

Ranee  as  host  exhausted  the  resources  of  the 
place  in  entertaining  his  guest,  and  Ruth  outdid 
herself  in  seconding  his  efforts.  This  stranger 


THE        CITY        OF       SIX 

appealed  to  her  forcibly.  Here  was  a  man  who 
wore  a  "biled  shirt"  and  did  not  murmur  at 
what  the  rest  regarded  as  a  stiff  and  starched 
horror,  a  yoke  of  misery  and  discomfort;  a  person 
whose  neat  apparel  was  unwrinkled,  who  shaved 
daily  and  flecked  the  dust  from  polished  boots 
to  preserve  their  tidiness,  and  even  wiped  his 
feet  voluntarily  on  the  doormat.  Careless  Tex 
was  so  exhorted  to  take  pattern  after  this  im- 
maculate example  that  the  preaching  became  a 
weariness  to  his  soul. 

Ranee  and  Brant  became  fairly  friendly.  It 
was  possibly  the  attractiveness  of  the  unlike  that 
linked  them  in  friendship.  Brant  was  the  elder 
by  several  years,  reserved,  taciturn,  and  not 
given  to  companionship  or  confidences;  on  the 
contrary,  Ranee  wore  his  heart  on  his  sleeve  and 
to  a  friend  confided  his  hopes,  disappointments, 
ambitions,  and  failures  freely  and  without  much 
reserve.  Brant  was  cold,  calculating,  and  of  a 
manner  and  carriage  that  invited  no  intimacies. 
In  his  profession  he  walked  apart  from  his  fel- 
lows, disdained  their  comradeship,  despised  their 
vices,  and  stood  aloof  from  the  shady  side  of  their 
lives. 

"There  runs  ice  water  in  his  veins,"  was  the 

[122] 


RANGE'S    GAMBLING   FRIEND 

current  comment  on  his  attitude,  and  to  some 
extent  the  criticism  was  just,  so  far  as  the 
exterior  he  presented  to  the  undiscriminating. 
After  all,  it  was  a  mask  cleverly  worn,  deliber- 
ately assumed  and  used  as  a  valuable  asset.  He 
was  a  Marylander  by  birth,  the  scion  of  a  prom- 
inent family  which  at  one  time  had  owned  broad 
and  fair  acres,  although  when  Brant  became  of 
age  the  sheriff  had  transferred  the  title  to  aliens 
and  his  patrimony  dwindled  to  nothing.  His  fath- 
er had,  in  old  Washington  society  of  "before  the 
war,"  dissipated  his  lands  and  fortune  in  an  in- 
stinctive and  uncontrollable  passion  for  gambling ; 
and  on  the  race  course,  in  the  social  games  of  the 
Southern  element,  and  at  the  fascinating  faro 
banks  had  seen  his  last  dollar  disappear.  Then, 
rather  than  become  a  hanger-on,  he  wisely  ended 
his  career  by  a  bullet  through  his  brain,  leaving 
Brant,  his  only  child,  to  make  his  own  way  as 
best  he  might.  Luckily,  he  had  given  the  boy 
the  advantage  of  tutor  and  college.  If  Brant 
inherited  the  taint  and  the  gambling  passion  was 
in  his  blood,  he  had  no  means  of  gratifying  it, 
as  he  was  penniless;  and  the  disgrace  of  his 
father's  taking  off  and  his  known  impecunious 
condition  alienated  his  few  friends.  Ostracized 

[123] 


THE       CITY       OF        SIX 

and  desperate  he  deliberately  resolved  to  adopt 
the  career  that  had  proved  his  father's  ruin,  with 
the  difference  that  he  would  prey  instead  of  being 
preyed  upon.  He  studied  closely  all  games  of 
chance,  the  mathematical  odds  in  favor  of  the 
bank,  the  invariable  law  of  percentages  to  count 
on,  and  in  social  games  he  practised  that  close 
observation  of  human  nature  that  notes  and  takes 
advantage  of  temperamental  betrayal  of  emo- 
tions. The  study  became  so  absorbing  and  so 
successful  that  from  the  subordinate  place  of 
dealer  he  had  in  a  few  years  become  a  capitalist 
and  proprietor.  In  the  pursuit  he  had  had  the 
satisfaction  of  plucking  many  of  those  who  had 
fleeced  his  father,  but  his  pride  was  hurt.  As  a 
gentleman's  son  he  had  held  his  head  as  high  as 
the  best;  as  a  professional  gambler  he  was  an 
outcast,  and  although  showing  no  outward  signs, 
he  suffered  deeply  in  spirit. 

It  was  this  feeling  that  impelled  him,  when  the 
discovery  of  gold  in  California  opened  a  new 
field,  to  desert  his  old  haunts  and  with  ample 
capital  start  anew  in  a  country  where  people 
were  too  busy  or  too  indifferent  to  bother  them- 
selves about  his  past.  Deep  in  his  breast  he  had 
cherished  the  plan  of  at  some  future  day  redeem- 

[124] 


RANGE'S    GAMBLING   FRIEND 

ing  the  old  acres  from  strangers'  hands,  and  in 
his  own  right  taking  the  place  among  the  gentry 
that  his  father's  weakness  had  deprived  him  of. 
He  had  prospered  beyond  his  most  sanguine 
hopes,  was  rich  as  riches  counted  in  that  era, 
although  at  a  cost.  His  contact  with  the  baser 
sort  had  bred  in  him  a  contempt  for  humanity, 
he  doubted  the  existence  of  good  men,  and  the 
existence  of  good  women  had  faded  from  his 
memory.  Ranee's  intervention  in  favor  of  the 
persecuted  dog  was  the  first  decent  action  that 
had  come  under  his  observation  for  years;  its 
disinterestedness,  when  it  meant  peril  to  the 
intervener,  forced  admiration;  and  when  in  the 
ensuing  lounge  on  the  porch  of  the  hotel  Ranee 
confidingly  laid  bare  his  history,  his  heart 
yearned  for  such  a  friend.  By  birth  and  educa- 
tion they  were  equal.  Ranee  confessed  how  near, 
when  deserted  by  his  slaves,  he  had  come  to 
adopting  a  like  career;  this  and  the  strength  of 
character  that  had  enabled  him  to  brave  ridicule 
in  his  occupation  as  cook  appealed  to  the  cynic 
and  led  him  to  welcome  the  tentative  advances 
of  his  would-be  comrade.  In  fact,  as  the  com- 
panionship grew  closer,  he  felt  that  Ranee  was  on 
a  plane  above  him.  There  was  dignity  in  his 

[125] 


THE       CITY       OF        SIX 

position  as  mine-owner  and  stockholder  in  a  pros- 
perous corporation,  the  abundant  riches  in  which 
he  shared  came  from  the  earth,  its  accumulation 
did  no  man  wrong,  and  while  Brant  rejoiced  in 
his  friend's  prosperity,  he  envied  its  source  and 
grew  more  and  more  dissatisfied  with  his  own 
position  and  associations. 

Charmed  with  the  unwonted  quiet  and  peace- 
fulness  of  the  retreat,  in  such  marked  contrast 
with  the  turmoil  of  its  neighbors,  Brant  lingered 
day  after  day  neglectful  of  his  interests  and 
content  to  pay  any  price  for  the  relaxation.  Even 
Ruth,  who  as  a  rule  set  the  nerves  of  most  men 
on  edge,  had  a  fascination  for  him,  and  he  was 
surprised  to  find  himself  in  a  strangely  senti- 
mental mood  when  he  was  told  of  the  budding 
romance  in  which  Tex  was  the  hero  and  she  the 
heroine.  He  had  lived  so  long  in  a  sordid  half- 
world  that  this  phase  came  as  a  revelation.  He 
gave  eager  attention  to  the  brief  and  unexciting 
history  of  the  camp,  thrilled  over  the  recital  of 
the  discovery  of  the  big  nugget,  sympathized 
with  Wakefield's  awakened  literary  instincts  and 
his  absorption  in  Shakespearean  dramas,  gave 
a  rapt  ear  to  the  tales  of  the  border  as  retold 
By  Tex,  and  above  all,  paid  homage  to  the  ruling 

[126] 


RANGE'S    GAMBLING    FRIEND 

spirit  of  the  place,  the  masterful  Mike,  whom 
he  recognized  as  a  man  among  men. 

"Upon  my  word,  I  would  not  have  believed 
it,"  he  finally  confided1  to  Ranee.  "Here's  a 
place  where  the  gin-mill  and  the  Jew  store  are 
not,  where  every  one  is  working  for  a  living  and 
contented  in  his  work,  and,"  —  a  puzzled  ex- 
pression spread  over  his  face  —  "when  I  dropped 
into  the  bunk-house  after  supper  last  night,  a 
dozen  men  were  playing  cards  —  seven-up  and 
euchre,  —  and  it  sort  of  relieved  me  to  know  that 
there  was  one  vice  to  leaven  all  this  virtue.  But 
when  I  asked  what  were  the  stakes,  as  I  'm  a  sin- 
ner they  told  me  there  were  none ;  they  were  play- 
ing for  the  fun  of  it,  keeping  a  nightly  account  of 
games  won  and  lost,  merely  to  decide  who  were 
the  luckiest  or  more  skilled.  I  must  get  out  of 
this;  it  is  beginning  to  undermine  my  prin- 
ciples." 

"It's  all  Mike  and  his  example,"  replied 
Ranee;  "you  wouldn't  believe,  to  watch  him, 
that  a  year  ago  he  was  an  irresponsible  devil- 
may-care  Irishman,  who  revelled  in  a  drunken 
debauch  and  was  happiest  when  squandering  his 
money  in  a  riotous  spree.  He  had,  however,  a 
level  head  and  a  will-power  that,  once  resolved, 

[127] 


THE       CITY       OF       SIX 

wrought  a  complete  transformation,  and  now  he 
is  the  mainspring  of  the  whole  place." 

Brant  pondered  over  the  situation  and  took 
deep  counsel  with  himself.  A  first  result  of  his 
meditations  was  an  intimation  to  Ranee  that  if 
it  would  be  agreeable  he  would  accompany  his 
friend  to  San  Francisco;  that  is,  if  Ranee  would 
postpone  his  departure  for  a  couple  of  days,  a 
sufficient  delay  that  would  allow  him  to  put  his 
affairs  in  such  shape  as  to  permit  his  absence. 
Ranee  cheerfully  consented  and  at  the  expiration 
of  the  time  was  joined  by  Brant,  and  the  two, 
well  mounted  and  equipped,  rode  off  down  the 
ridge  bearing  a  welcoming  message  to  Wakefield 
and  his  family  and  a  unanimously  expressed  wish 
for  their  own  speedy  return.  There  was  one  dis- 
senting voice,  and  it  was  loudly  raised  in  protest. 
The  dog,  who  gave  a  devoted  and  unselfish  alle- 
giance to  Ranee,  and  who  since  his  rescue  had 
been  a  constant  attendant  and  loyal  slave  of  his 
adopted  master,  tugged  at  the  end  of  a  rope  that 
deprived  him  of  liberty,  in  an  agony  of  anxiety 
and  fear,  persuaded  that  he  was  being  abandoned 
by  a  loved  friend;  the  echo  of  his  wailing  ex- 
postulations was  the  last  sound  they  heard  as 
they  rode  down  the  trail. 

[128] 


CHAPTER    XIII 

WAKEFIELD   AND    HIS   FAMILY   ARRIVE 

T  T  is  hardly  worth  while  following  the  ad- 
ventures of  the  twain  on  their  journey,  or 
during  their  sojourn  in  the  city.  Ranee,  who 
had  dreamed  of  and  projected  this  visit  for 
months,  plunged  into  the  distractions  of  the  town 
with  a  joyous  abandon;  but  at  the  end  of  a 
couple  of  weeks  it  began  to  pall  on  him.  Every- 
thing was  at  too  high  pressure.  Under  the 
stimulus  of  the  stream  of  gold  that  was  poured 
into  the  city  it  seethed  with  excitement.  Steam- 
ers were  departing  with  those  to  whom  fortune 
had  come,  and  steamers  arriving  with  eager  ad- 
venturers from  all  lands,  a  hurly-burly  of  hu- 
manity of  all  classes  and  all  degrees,  a  jostling 
tide  that  ebbed  and  flowed,  inspired  by  the  lust  for 
easily  acquired  riches.  In  this  multitude,  moved 
only  to  the  attainment  of  its  own  selfish  interests, 
the  amenities  of  ordinary  life  disappeared,  or  if 
practised,  were  hidden  from  view.  There  were 
good  men  and  a  few  good  women,  the  beginnings 
of  home  life  and  happy  households,  but  to  the 

[129] 


THE       CITY        OF       SIX 

casual  observer  they  were  not  in  evidence. 
Rogues  in  office  plundered  the  city  at  will  and 
almost  without  protest;  the  scum  of  all  nations 
found  a  harbor  of  refuge  and  ran  riot  in  their 
evil  ways.  Legitimate  business  was  a  gamble, 
and  gambling  a  legitimate  pursuit;  commodities 
that  brought  fabulous  prices  for  the  day  and  re- 
turned a  thousand  or  more  per  cent  profit,  were 
on  the  morrow  drugs  on  the  market.  There 
was  no  stable  foundation  to  the  mercantile  struc- 
ture. Over-receipts  tumbled  down  prices;  fre- 
quent fires  swept  away  stocks;  fortunes  melted, 
and  withal  there  was  no  confidence  in  the  per- 
manence of  the  place.  Few  had  any  faith  in  the 
future,  and  this  instability  and  doubt  nerved  all 
to  strain  every  effort  to  get  rich  quick  and  de- 
part. It  was  not  strange  under  the  conditions 
that  the  gambling  spirit  possessed  the  majority, 
and  this  was  stimulated  by  the  one  tangible 
fact  —  the  flux  and  reflux  of  individual  fortunes 
had  no  bearing  on  or  connection  with  the  cause  of 
it  all,  the  outpouring  of  the  precious  metal  from 
the  foothill  placers.  There  was  no  abatement  to 
the  yield,  and  from  a  thousand  sources  it  found 
its  way  to  the  treasure  vaults  of  the  metropolis. 


[130] 


THE      WAKEFIELD      FAMILY 

For  a  time  the  conditions  interested  Ranee, 
and  he  was  pleased  and  content  to  swim  with 
the  current.  Shortly,  however,  he  realized  that 
he  was  no  part  of  it  and  doubted  whether  he 
had  any  desire  to  be.  The  gentlemanly  and 
dignified  leisure  that  seemed  to  him  to  be  most 
desirable  would  put  one  out  of  touch  with  the 
situation.  A  constitutional  idler  was  not  in  place 
in  this  busy  hive.  To  be  sure,  there  was  a  clique 
of  Southern  gentlemen  who  made  headquarters 
at  the  hotel  where  he  and  Brant  stopped,  a  chiv- 
alrous lot  who  disdained  commercial  pursuits, 
looked  to  a  benign  and  sympathetic  federal  ad- 
ministration to  provide  them  with  fat  berths,  and 
claimed  an  inherent  right  to  all  the  offices.  Ranee, 
when  it  became  known  that  he  was  of  the  elect, 
was  warmly  welcomed  to  the  circle,  more  heartily, 
perhaps,  when  it  was  also  understood  that  he 
had  no  ambition  to  feed  on  the  bounty  of  the 
Government  and  was  in  easy  circumstances. 

"Met  your  father  at  the  St.  Charles  in  New 
Orleans,"  confided  one  of  these  old  parasites, 
"and  he  was  a  gentleman,  suh,  whom  I  was  proud 
to  know.  Ah,  it  was  young  blood  then,  and  I 
fear  we  were  a  little  gay;  our  purses  were  at 


[131] 


each  other's  service,  suh,"  and  he  glanced  at 
Ranee  to  note  whether  his  old  friend's  son  was 
of  the  same  metal. 

It  usually  ended  in  a  trifling  loan,  "a  debt 
of  honah,  suh,"  to  be  paid  when  salary  day  came 
around.  He  was  also  welcomed  to  the  private 
poker  game,  a  privilege  to  which  no  mere  ple- 
beian dare  aspire;  but  here  he  held  his  own,  and 
the  Judge,  whose  temporary  embarrassment  he 
had  relieved,  was  pleased  to  admit  that  the  boy 
handled  the  "keerds"  so  skilfully  as  to  do  credit 
to  his  bringing  up. 

During  this  time  his  comrade  had  participated 
with  him  in  the  current  diversions,  although  in 
a  perfunctory  way.  His  principal  occupation 
had  been  in  looking  over  inviting  investments; 
some  were  safe,  and  others  —  which  included  the 
purchase  of  city  real  estate  —  were,  owing  to  the 
difference  of  opinion  as  to  its  future,  classed  as 
hazardous  and  uncertain.  If  when  the  gold  pro- 
duction was  over  there  should  remain  no  longer 
any  justification  for  the  building  up  of  a  Pacific 
Coast  metropolis,  and  the  country  should  return 
to  its  old  pastoral  state,  then  the  investment 
would  prove  to  be  a  poor  one;  if,  on  the  other 
hand,  as  the  more  sanguine  predicted,  the  gold 

[132] 


THE      WAKEFIELD      FAMILY 

discovery  was  but  the  beginning  of  development, 
and  in  due  time  a  great  empire  should  replace  the 
old  conditions,  then  the  investor  would  reap  a 
thousand  fold ;  and  Brant  was  gambler  enough  to 
take  what  was  considered  the  odds.  This  con- 
cluded, time  hung  heavy  on  his  hands;  he  was 
anxious  to  get  back  to  the  mountains,  for  he  had 
planned  and  secretly  determined  upon  a  radical 
departure,  one  which  meant  a  complete  change 
in  his  mode  of  living,  —  pursuits  which  would 
ring  down  the  curtain  so  far  as  cards  or  games 
were  concerned  and  yet  not  eliminate  the  ele- 
ment of  chance.  In  fine,  his  visit  to  The  City  of 
Six  had  persuaded  him  that  in  mining  the  risks 
were  no  greater,  the  returns  much  larger;  and 
he  had  resolved  to  employ  some  of  his  capital  in 
that  direction. 

For  this  reason  he  was  more  than  pleased  when 
Ranee  one  day  intimated  that  city  life  had  lost 
its  charm  and  expressed  a  wish  that  the  Panama 
steamer  would  arrive,  and  a  return  to  the  Sierras 
be  no  longer  delayed.  Ranee  had  arranged 
for  suitable  quarters  at  the  hotel  for  the  ex- 
pected ones,  and  they  both  eagerly  and  impa- 
tiently watched  the  semaphore  on  Telegraph  Hill, 
which  heralded  the  announcement  of  the  boat's 

[133] 


THE       CITY       OF       SIX 

appearance  off  the  bar.  When  at  last  the 
welcome  signal  was  displayed,  Ranee  urged  the 
carriage  driver  to  hasten  down  the  sandy  road 
to  the  wharf.  Here  he  paced  up  and  down  for 
three  hours  before  the  boat  made  its  tardy  ap- 
proach and  docked,  not  heeding  the  fact  that 
hacks  were  in  great  demand  on  these  occasions 
and  that  he  would  be  mulcted  at  the  rate  of  ten 
dollars  per  hour  for  the  time  consumed.  A 
thousand  eager  faces  lined  the  rails,  a  throng 
curious  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  El  Dorado;  and 
in  the  rush  for  shore  a  half -hour  elapsed  before 
he  could  gain  the  deck.  At  last  he  recognized 
Wakefield  among  the  waiting  mass  and  made 
his  way  to  his  partner's  side.  There  was  a  warm 
greeting,  hasty  inquiries  as  to  the  health  and  wel- 
fare of  his  absent  comrades,  and  then  they  made 
their  way  to  the  cabin  where  the  wife  and  daugh- 
ter were  waiting. 

It  is  a  subconscious  habit  —  the  construction  of 
mental  photographs  of  people  talked  about  whom 
we  have  not  met  and  scenes  described  but  yet  un- 
visited.  During  the  long  winter  evenings  on  the 
mountain  Wakefield  had  dwelt  lovingly  on  the 
personality  of  his  wife  and  little  girl,  and  Ranee 
had  been  a  sympathetic  listener.  In  his  mind  he 

[134] 


THE      WAKEFIELD      FAMILY 

had  framed  a  picture  of  the  twain  which,  taking 
form  and  color  from  the  rustic  environment, 
evoked  a  type  of  country  beauty,  the  maturity 
of  a  blooming,  buxom  village  belle,  growing  fat 
and  frowzy  with  advancing  years.  The  invalid- 
ism  of  the  wife  had  mentally  changed  and  modi- 
fied this  creation  into  a  querulous  sick  woman, 
the  victim  of  a  harsh  and  depressing  climate. 
This  for  the  wife;  as  for  the  daughter,  he 
anticipated  meeting  a  round-faced,  red-cheeked, 
efflorescent  hobbledehoy  at  the  awkward  age 
that  intervenes  between  the  child  and  the  woman, 
lacking  repose  or  refinement,  except  perhaps  a 
shyness  bred  of  her  unaccustomed  contact  with 
the  great  world. 

There  was  no  justification  for  this  pre judg- 
ment beyond  the  unconscious  impressions  drawn 
from  Wakefield's  references  to  his  life  in  the 
States  and  the  natural  mate  that  would  be  the 
choice  of  a  man  of  his  robust  physique  and  men- 
tal limitations.  It  was  but  natural  that  a  Hebe 
would  appeal  to  him  in  preference  to  a  Psyche, 
his  ideal  would  be  material  rather  than  spiritual ; 
at  least  thus  reasoned  Ranee  if  he  gave  any 
thought  to  the  subject.  Then,  he  was  prejudiced 
to  a  degree  and  touched  with  the  inherited  con- 

[135] 


THE       CITY       OF        SIX 

tempt  of  the  South  for  anything  north  of  Mason 
and  Dixon's  Line;  although  his  experience  and 
associations  since  he  had  departed  from  his 
Southern  home  had  taught  him  that  his  views 
had  been  essentially  narrow  and  false  and  he  had 
modified  his  opinions  relative  to  those  outside 
the  sacred  lines  of  chivalry. 

Judge  of  his  surprise  when,  descending  with 
Wakefield  to  the  cabin,  he  encountered  one  who 
in  no  way  resembled  his  forecast.  Instead,  he 
was  greeted  by  a  woman  neither  pronounced, 
embarrassed,  nor  shy.  Instead  of  the  rusticity 
and  gaucherie  that  he  had  anticipated,  she  met 
him  with  the  quiet  bearing  and  aplomb  of  a  well 
bred  and  well  poised  woman  of  the  world  and 
yet  with  a  sincere  cordiality  and  frank  pleasure 
that  impressed  him  most  favorably.  A  rather 
slight  but  well  moulded  figure,  features  refined 
and  regular,  face  a  little  pale  and  drawn,  in- 
dicating the  invalid  and  sufferer,  an  abundance 
of  wavy  brown  hair  and  a  pair  of  brown  eyes 
beaming  with  welcome, —  that  was  the  vision  that 
banished  Ranee's  preconceived  picture. 

"Oh,  Mr.  Poole,"  she  exclaimed,  "what  a 
pleasure  it  is  to  meet  you!  You  seem  one  of  my 
closest  friends.  My  husband  has  told  me  so  much 

[136] 


THE      WAKEFIELD      FAMILY 

of  your  kindness  and  your  companionship,  both 
in  his  letters  and  after  he  returned.  I  have 
heard  so  much  of  you  and  Mike  and  Tex  and  the 
wonderful  'City  of  Six'  and  its  beginnings,  that 
it  seems  as  if  I  were  as  closely  linked  to  its  for- 
tunes and  those  of  its  founders  as  if  I  were  a  part 
of  it." 

"I  trust  he  did  not  refer  to  me  as  'Mr.  Poole,' ' 
laughingly  retorted  Ranee.  "  That  would  not  fit 
the  traditions  of  the  camp  nor  my  part  in  it.  He 
could  not  well  conceal  from  you  my  humble  oc- 
cupation. You  must  know  that  I  was  the  cook 
and  that  in  my  lack  of  previous  training  I  had 
many  shortcomings  to  answer  for." 

"Oh,  no!  it  was  never  'Mr.,'  but  just 
'Ranee,'  although  you  could  not  expect  me  to 
take  that  liberty  at  the  first  meeting.  As  for  the 
cooking,  no  French  chef  could  receive  higher 
encomiums.  That  was  but  a  small  part  of  his 
enthusiasm, —  it  was  his  good  friend  and  loyal 
comrade  that  was  uppermost  in  his  thoughts," 
and  wonderfully  expressive  eyes  met  Ranee's 
in  a  caressing  glance  that  spoke  the  affection  and 
gratitude  that  her  husband's  report  had  inspired. 

"But,  gracious!  I  am  forgetting  Dot.  Our 
daughter,  Dorothea,  Mr.  Poole." 

[137] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

Again  Ranee  went  off  his  mental  balance.  A 
tall,  handsome  girl,  neither  awkward  nor  em- 
barrassed, extended  her  hand  as  frankly  as  had 
her  mother,  whom  she  resembled  in  nothing  ex- 
cept the  heritage  of  the  eyes,  which  impressed 
him  as  the  loveliest  pair  he  ever  looked  into. 

"I  am  sure  you  will  permit  me  to  call  you 
'Ranee/  "  said  the  young  girl.  "It  would  dispel 
all  my  illusions  if  I  had  to  re-create  you  as  '  Mr.' ; 
besides,  I  am  only  a  child,  and  father  will  not 
admit  even  that, —  he  looks  on  me  as  an  over- 
grown baby." 

Ranee  protested  that  the  prefix  was  entirely 
out  of  the  question  and  that  he  would  be  de- 
lighted to  at  once  establish  that  quasi  intimacy 
that  the  familiar  use  of  his  first  name  would 
imply. 

"But  come,  let  us  leave  the  steamer;  I  am  sure 
the  change  to  land  will  be  an  agreeable  one  after 
what  has  doubtless  been  a  fatiguing  and  tiresome 
trip,"  and  he  led  the  way  ashore,  where  the 
patient  hackman  was  waiting.  Subsidizing  a 
porter  to  take  care  of  the  baggage,  they  were 
soon  at  the  hotel,  where  the  travellers  were  com- 
fortably installed;  Brant,  who  was  awaiting 
them,  having  first  been  formally  introduced. 

[138] 


THE      WAKEFIELD      FAMILY 

"Ranee,  it  seems  to  me  that  you  were  a  long 
way  off  in  your  ideas  of  the  appearance  of  your 
friends,"  began  Brant,  whose  observation  of  the 
ladies,  though  brief,  had  served  to  give  him  an 
entirely  different  impression  than  what  he  had 
expected  from  Ranee's  pre judgment.  "They 
may  be  country  born  and  country  bred,  but  it 
strikes  me  they  are  also  well  bred,  and  they  are 
certainly  well  mannered.  The  mother  is  quite 
interesting  with  her  refined  air,  and  the  daughter 
is  a  stunning  girl.  Did  you  note  the  hair  and  the 
eyes  —  they  both  have  them  —  and  the  long  eye- 
lashes that  shade  them?  The  combination  is 
fetching.  Of  course,  rustic  speech  and  village 
manners  may  offset  it." 

"No,  no,"  replied  Ranee,  "their  speech  is  as 
free  from  vulgarism  as  their  air  from  rusticity. 
I  confess  I  am  surprised,  for  Wakefield,  while 
one  of  the  best  fellows  alive,  is  not  polished  — 
more  of  a  rough  diamond — yet  he  is  shrewd 
and  capable.  I  must  have  put  too  low  an  esti- 
mate on  the  advantages  of  country  towns  in  the 
North  in  the  way  of  society  and  culture." 

"Speaking  of  Wakefield,  what  do  you  think 
of  his  greeting  to  me?  Is  the  Bard  of  Avon  the 
text-book  in  the  village  schools,  and  mouthing 

[139] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

Shakespeare  the  common  custom?  I  am  not 
very  well  pleased  by  the  role  he  has  given  me  — 
'Honest  lago,  let  it  not  gall  your  patience  that 
I  extend  my  manners.  'T  is  my  breeding  that 
gives  me  a  bold  show  of  courtesy.'  That  is  what 
he  flung  at  me ;  and  faith,  I  '11  not  play  lago  to 
his  Othello." 

"It's  queer,"  said  Ranee,  "there  is  a  change 
in  the  man  from  what  he  was  before  he  went 
away.  At  times  he  is  the  old  Dean,  as  we  nick- 
named him,  eager  to  know  of  the  happenings 
during  his  absence,  looking  forward  to  meeting 
his  partners,  interested  in  the  fortunes  of  the 
corporation  in  which  his  own  are  included,  so- 
licitous and  anxious  as  to  whether  the  wife  and 
girl  will  be  contented  in  the  foothills,  and  then  a 
dreamy  look  comes  into  his  eyes  and  he  is  up  in 
the  clouds.  In  the  hack  he  asked  me  if  the 
Forest  of  Arden  was  as  pleasant  as  of  yore,  and, 
'Are  not  those  woods  more  free  from  peril  than 
the  envious  court?'  I  could  only  stare  at  him 
until  he  came  down  to  earth  again,  which  he  did 
when  the  daughter  cried,  'Oh!  bother  the  Forest 
of  Arden,  papa;  wait  until  we  get  there,  and  if 
it  is,  I  will  play  Rosalind  to  some  Orlando.' ' 

"She'll  play  the  deuce  up  there    in    exile," 

[140] 


THE      WAKEFIELD      FAMILY 

said  Brant,  "it's  a  shame  to  banish  her  mother 
and  herself  to  so  rough  a  place.  I  trust  that  old 
fellow  will  give  me  some  other  part  than  that  of 
the  treacherous  Venetian." 

The  party  soon  recovered  from  the  fatigue  of 
the  voyage  and  did  not  seem  to  feel  that  the 
mountains  meant  exile;  on  the  contrary,  they 
were  anxious  to  leave  for  their  new  home.  Ranee 
told  them  of  the  preparations  that  had  been 
made  for  their  reception  and  comfort;  of  Ruth, 
her  peculiarities,  her  share  in  it,  and  her  budding 
romance;  of  the  famous  output  of  the  mine;  of 
Brant  and  of  the  dog  to  whom  he  owed  the 
acquaintance,  omitting  allusion  to  Brant's  pro- 
fession, feeling  that  the  knowledge  might  prej- 
udice them  against  him. 

At  the  end  of  the  week  they  took  the  river 
steamer  for  Sacramento,  and  while  sailing  up 
the  placid  bay  the  wife  sought  out  Ranee  and 
asked  for  a  confidential  interview. 

"  I  must  confide  in  you  and  ask  your  help,"  she 
began.  "I  have  no  one  else  to  turn  to  in  my 
trouble.  Surely  you  must  see  some  change  in 
my  husband ;  is  he  the  same  as  when  he  departed 
from  California?" 

"No,"  answered  Ranee,  "he  is  not  my  old 

[141] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

pard ;  that  is,  not  all  the  time ;  he  falls  into  moody 
spells  and  then  without  rhyme  or  reason,  lugs 
in  a  quotation,  more  or  less  to  the  point.  He 
was  not  given  to  that  before  he  went  away." 

"That  is  it,  and  how  strange  it  Is!"  she  con- 
tinued. "Before  he  left  me,  a  saner  or  more 
simple  man  never  lived.  Books  had  little  interest 
for  him,  and  poets  less.  He  was  always  cheerful, 
good-humored,  and  interested  only  in  the  daily 
humdrum  affairs  of  life;  now  he  falls  into  spells 
and  will  moon  around  by  the  hour,  silent,  dis- 
tracted, taking  no  note  of  us  or  his  surroundings, 
muttering  and  quoting  from  the  plays.  Then 
he  will  come  to  himself  and,  strangely  enough, 
seems  to  have  no  recollection  of  his  trance, 
and" — the  tears  welling  up  to  her  eyes  — 
"then  he  is  again  my  old  Dick." 

Clasping  her  hands  she  looked  imploringly  at 
Ranee  as  if  he  had  the  power  to  ward  off  the 
spell.  "Do  you  think  his  brain  affected?" 

Suddenly  there  came  to  Ranee  the  memory 
of  those  long  winter  nights  in  the  cabin  and  the 
particular  one  on  which  he  had  read  the  banter- 
ing speech  of  Jessica  and  Lorenzo.  Had  he 
unwittingly  set  in  motion  some  kink  in  Wake- 
field's  brain,  some  hitherto  dormant  faculty  that 

[142] 


THE      WAKEFIELD      FAMILY 

needed  but  the  poet's  words  to  fire  his  imagina- 
tion? He  recalled  how  from  that  time  his  part- 
ner had  become  an  absorbed  student,  and  that 
Shakespeare's  characters  had  walked  the  boards, 
or  rather,  the  dirt  floor  of  the  room,  at  times  to 
his  amusement,  at  others  to  his  utter  boredom. 
Now  he  could  see  that  it  had  developed  into  a 
mania,  "that  grew  fat  from  what  it  fed  upon," 
and  that  Wakefield  was  living  a  dual  life,  that 
his  imagination  was  creating  a  world  and 
peopling  it  with  shadows ;  and  Ranee  grew  grave 
as  he  grasped  the  situation.  He  could  only 
reply  that  while  there  was  a  change,  the  chances 
were  it  was  but  a  temporary  one,  and  that  she 
could  calm  her  fears  in  the  trust  that  if  he  was 
a  trifle  unbalanced  the  tonic  of  the  woods,  the 
meeting  with  his  old  partners,  and  the  resump- 
tion of  his  mining  life  would  turn  his  mind  back 
into  sane  channels.  It  was  the  sole  sympathy 
and  encouragement  he  could  offer,  and  the 
cheering  manner  in  which  he  conveyed  his  hope 
somewhat  allayed  her  fears. 

The  journey  by  boat,  stage,  and  finally  in  the 
saddle,  took  the  better  part  of  a  week.  Arriv- 
ing at  Nigger  Tent,  where  the  grade  started 
down  the  mountain  to  the  river  and  the  ridge 

[143] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

trail  began,  they  met  Tex,  who  had  been  deputed 
to  await  them  and  act  as  escort  to  the  camp. 
From  Sacramento  it  had  not  been  a  very  pleas- 
ant trip.  The  fierce  rays  of  a  July  sun  beat  down 
on  the  brown  hills,  the  heat  was  intense,  and  the 
stage,  plunging  along  over  winding  roads,  was 
enveloped  in  a  cloud  of  red  dust  stirred  up  by 
the  hoof-beats  of  the  horses.  The  only  relief 
from  the  monotony  of  the  ride  was  when  a  turn- 
out was  made  to  pass  the  big  freight  wagons  with 
their  string  of  eight,  nine,  or  ten  span  of  mules, 
crawling  along  at  a  snail's  pace,  painfully  and 
laboriously  hauling  the  huge  cargo  to  some  far- 
away mining  town,  spurred  to  increased  effort 
by  the  crack  of  the  blacksnake  and  a  volley  of 
picturesque  exhortation  from  the  "mule  skinner," 
the  expressive  nickname  given  to  the  early-day 
teamster.  Under  the  depressing  effect  of  the 
heat  the  weary  party  ceased  to  note  even  these 
incidents,  and  when  they  disembarked  at  the 
Tent,  the  women  felt  themselves  almost  incapable 
of  further  exertion. 

"And  this  is  the  paradise  to  which  you  have 
insisted  we  were  going,"  sarcastically  remarked 
Mrs.  Wakefield.  "Really,  it  does  not  meet  my 


[144] 


When  a  turnout  was  made  to  pass  the  big  freight  wagons  with  their 
string  of  mules." 


THE      WAKEFIELD      FAMILY 

ideas  of  that  Elysium.    On  the  contrary,  it  seems 
as  if  it  were  the  direct  opposite." 

"Oh,"  laughed  Ranee,  "you  are  only  at  the 
gates  of  paradise;  it  is  about  ten  miles  up  the 
ridge  and  we  call  it '  The  City  of  Six.' ' 

"It's  all  an  illusion,"  interrupted  Dot,  "and 
here 's  the  proof.  This  you  say  is  'Nigger  Tent,' 
and  there  is  no  tent,  no  niggers;  we  are  chasing 
phantoms,  and  'cities'  and  'sixes'  will  turn  out 
as  unsubstantial  as  a  mirage,  or  something  so 
entirely  different  as  to  be  a  contradiction  to  our 
expectations." 

'  I  am  a  feather  for  each  wind  that  blows ; 
sons,  we  will  higher  to  the  mountains  and  there 
secure  us,'  "  Wakefield  quoted. 

It  was  a  jarring  note,  this  inapt  quotation. 
While  silent  and  distrait,  so  far  on  the  journey 
he  had  been  his  saner  self,  and  his  relapse  damp- 
ened their  spirits.  No  notice  was  taken  of  it; 
an  understanding  had  been  established  among 
the  party  that  they  should  ignore  what  they 
hoped  was  only  an  eccentricity. 

A  wash  in  the  cold  water  of  a  near-by  spring 
served  to  rid  them  of  a  portion  of  the  stains  of 
travel,  a  luncheon  further  revived  them,  and  as 


[145] 


THE       CITY       OF       SIX 

the  lengthening  shadows  marked  the  sinking  of 
the  sun  and  tempered  the  fierce  heat,  they  took  the 
trail  for  their  goal. 

It  was  a  refreshing  change  from  the  tiresome 
stage  ride.  The  path  led  along  the  crest  of  the 
spur  through  anzanita  thickets  of  red  and 
green,  debouched  into  pleasant  valleys  down 
which  purled  and  murmured  sparkling  mountain 
streams,  across  plateaus  where  giant  pines 
towered  to  dizzy  heights,  over  granite-ribbed 
slopes,  seemingly  the  foundations  of  the  earth 
pushed  to  the  surface;  above  and  beyond  were 
the  snow- topped  Sierras  apparently  joining  the 
sky.  It  was  the  beauty  of  wilderness,  a  landscape 
wrought  by  the  Titans.  The  ladies,  although 
sorely  tired,  forgot  their  weariness  and  fatigue, 
and  voiced  their  wonder  in  little  cries  of  amaze- 
ment, as  at  some  jutting  point  there  stood  re- 
vealed the  depths  of  gorge  and  canyon,  or  a 
glimpse  was  caught  of  white-blanketed  peaks 
climbing  heavenward.  Fascinating  as  was  the 
panorama  they  did  not  linger,  as  night  was  com- 
ing on.  Tex  urged  on  the  horses  (the  ladies  were 
riding  those  of  Ranee  and  Brant,  which  had  been 
sent  back  from  Sacramento)  and  the  men  trudged 
along  sturdily,  until  just  as  twilight  fell  they 

[146] 


THE      WAKEFIELD      FAMILY 

reached  their  destination.  To  Ranee  and  Brant 
it  was  the  close  of  a  holiday,  the  distractions 
and  pleasures  of  which  they  renounced  without 
regret;  to  the  mother  and  daughter,  the  begin- 
ning of  another  life  in  a  new  and  strange  world ; 
to  Wakefield,  it  should  have  been  a  homecoming 
to  familiar  scenes. 


[147] 


CHAPTER    XIV 

MRS.   WAKEFIELD  AND  DOT  ENJOY  CAMP  LIFE 

"\TIKE  met  the  party  with  the  sincerest  of 
welcomes,  putting  off  the  cloak  of  gravity 
in  which,  since  he  had  taken  on  the  dignity  of 
manager,  he  had  wrapped  himself. 

"  Sure,  I  'm  as  glad  to  see  you  back  as  I  was 
sorry  to  have  you  lave,"  he  cried,  shaking  Wake- 
field's  hand  with  a  grasp  that  betokened  his 
pleasure.  "It's  a  bigger  City  of  Six  than  whin 
you  wint  away,  and  a  better  one  now  that  ye  're 
back  again.  No  one  is  more  plased  to  see  you 
than  Mike." 

Wakefield  greeted  him  with  lacklustre  eye 
and  passive  handclasp,  but  brightened  up  when 
he  heard  the  word  "Mike." 

"  'Michael  Cassio,  lieutenant  to  the  warlike 
Moor,'  "  he  quoted,  "  'the  great  contention  of  the 
seas  and  skies  parted  our  friendship.' ' 

The  puzzled  Mike  stared  and  dropped  his 
partner's  hand  —  the  meaning  was  beyond  him, 
— but  was  spared  further  confusion  by  Ranee, 
who  made  a  diversion  by  summoning  him  to  meet 
the  women. 

[148] 


MRS.     WAKEFIELD     AND     DOT 

"Take  no  notice  of  him,"  Ranee  whispered; 
"there's  a  mutiny  in  his  mind,  and  I  will  explain 
later." 

The  mother  and  daughter  fully  repaid  Mike 
for  any  coldness  on  Wakefield's  part,  immedi- 
ately claiming  him  as  an  old  friend  —  had  they 
not  known  him  ever  since  the  beginnings  of  The 
City  of  Six?  Mike  blushed,  wondering  if  their 
knowledge  extended  to  those  lapses  that  marked 
his  earlier  career,  and  then  turned  the  current 
of  their  thoughts  by  saying, 

" Sure,  it 's  tired,  sore,  and  weary  you  must  be; 
you'll  have  plenty  of  time  to  know  us  all  for 
better  or  for  worse  in  the  days  coming;  let  me 
show  you  your  house  and  introduce  you  to  Mrs. 
Ruth.  It 's  me  manners  I  'm  forgetting  and  she 
working  all  the  day  with  a  feast  for  to  cilibrate 
your  arrival,  her  that  anxious  the  house  should 
be  prepared  and  comfortable.  I'm  called  the 
boss  of  the  camp,  but  it 's  not  so  —  she 's  the  rale 
boss,  and  nobody  dare  dispute  it." 

Ruth  stood  at  the  boarding-house  door  —  curi- 
ous but  resolved  not  to  make  any  advances,  — 
when  Mike  approached  and  introduced  them,  but 
she  unbent  enough  to  take  them  in  charge  and 
lead  them  to  the  new  house.  Tired  as  they  were, 

[149] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

they  broke  into  exclamations  of  pleased  surprise 
as  Ruth  showed  them  the  interior.  It  goes  with- 
out saying  that  under  Ruth's  vigilant  eye,  it  was 
as  neat  as  the  proverbial  pin;  it  was  more,  there 
were  the  homelike  touches  in  arrangement  and 
adornment  that  could  only  be  given  by  a  capable 
woman,  and  Ruth  had  expended  much  energy 
and  care  in  the  preparation. 

The  same  thought  came  to  Mrs.  Wakefield 
that  had  come  to  the  sick  Ranee  after  he  had 
climbed  the  steep  canyon  some  months  before. 

"Oh,  it's  heavenly,  a  heavenly  rest,"  she  cried 
as  she  sank  with  a  tired  but  satisfied  sigh  into  the 
inviting  rocking-chair,  "it's  so  much  beyond 
anything  we  expected,"  and  Dot  echoed  her 
mother's  words. 

Ruth  was  pleased  more  than  she  cared  to  show 
and  bustled  around,  helping  them  off  with  their 
hats  and  dusters. 

"Your  baggage  got  here  yesterday,"  she  in- 
formed them;  "it's  in  the  next  room.  Don't 
hurry.  When  you  tidy  up  a  bit  you  will  find 
supper  waiting;  you  all  must  be  hungry,"  and 
she  left  them  and  trotted  back  to  the  boarding- 
house,  where  Tex  was  awaiting  her.  "For  gra- 
cious' sake,  go  wash  off  the  dust !  You  're  a 

[150] 


MRS.     WAKEF1ELD     AND     DOT 

sight!"  was  the  loving  welcome  she  extended  him. 
He  started  to  obey,  when  Ranee  came  up  and 
without  ado  kissed  Mrs.  Ruth  on  the  cheek,  much 
to  her  confusion  and  surprise  at  his  temerity. 

"Well,  I  'm  damned,"  muttered  Tex,  "and  she 
did  not  scratch  him,"  recalling  a  few  secret  at- 
tempted love  passages  on  his  part  which  had 
resulted  disastrously.  As  for  Ruth,  she  was  not 
very  angry,  although  she  made  Ranee's  cheek 
tingle  with  a  slap  and  declared  that  he  had  lost 
his  manners  while  away. 

Supper  over,  a  generous  and  dainty  meal  for 
which  Ruth  was  duly  complimented,  the  new- 
comers retired,  and  Mike,  Ranee,  and  Tex  lit 
their  pipes  and  wandered  off  up  the  flat,  seating 
themselves  under  a  lofty  pine,  out  of  earshot  of 
the  camp. 

"What's  the  matter  with  the  old  man?"  asked 
Mike,  "I  don't  believe  that  he  knew  me,  what 
with  his  Michael  Cassio  and  his  contintions,  and 
you  noticed  that  he  never  spoke  a  word  while 
we  were  ateing  supper.  He  takes  no  interest 
whatever  in  the  camp  or  the  mine ;  you  would  n't 
think  he  was  a  quarter  owner  in  one  of  the  best 
properties  in  the  State." 

Ranee  briefly  told  the  condition  that  he  had 

[151] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

found  Wakefield  in,  the  unquestioned  fact  that 
his  mind  was  unbalanced,  and  the  fears  he  had 
that  the  malady  was  growing  on  him. 

"He  has  Shakespeare  on  the  brain,"  continued 
Ranee,  "and  he  has  studied  the  plays  until  he 
not  only  has  them  by  heart,  but  peoples  the 
present  with  the  characters.  Most  of  the  time  he 
is  silent  and  brooding  until  the  hallucination  pos- 
sesses him.  Then  I  am  Mercutio,  Orlando,  or 
Prince  Henry.  Brant  to  him  is  a  veritable  lago 
in  the  flesh,  and  you  remember  that  he  dubbed 
you  Michael  Cassio.  It's  a  fantastic  mix-up 
and  there  is  nothing  to  do  that  I  can  see  but  to 
wait  until  the  family  settles  down  and  then  seek 
some  professional  advice.  Possibly  his  being 
here  among  his  old  partners  and  old  work  will 
bring  a  cure." 

"There  was  nothing  wrong  with  his  head  when 
he  wint  away,"  commented  Mike,  "and  he's  the 
last  man  on  the  green  earth  that  I  would  look 
for  to  turn  looney." 

There  was  nothing  in  the  case  that  seemed  to 
call  for  any  interference,  and  the  conclusion  was 
reached,  for  the  present  at  least,  to  ignore  his 
idiosyncrasies  in  the  hope  that  the  quiet  life,  the 


[152] 


MRS.     WAKEFIELD     AND     DOT 

mountains,  and  familiar  associations  would  re- 
store him  to  his  old  self. 

Mike  and  Tex  were  both  emphatic  in  their 
admiration  of  Mrs.  Wakefield  and  Dot. 

"  It  don't  need  a  telescope  to  see  they  are  rale 
ladies,"  remarked  Mike,  "and  I'm  glad  they  are 
here;  they'll  be  just  in  time  to  dance  at  the 
wedding." 

"What  wedding?"  asked  Ranee. 

"Oh,  we  have  a  bit  of  news  of  our  own.  Ye 
didn't  know  that  Mrs.  Ruth  has  persuaded  the 
judge  to  break  the  bonds.  Ask  Tex,  he  is  the 
most  interested  party  outside  of  the  widdy  her- 
self ;  sure,  he  's  put  in  all  of  his  spare  time  coort- 
ing  ever  since  ye  wint  away." 

"Congratulations,  old  man,"  exclaimed  Ranee, 
clapping  the  confused  Texan  on  the  back.  "  You 
could  not  have  made  a  better  choice.  If  I  had 
not  seen  how  matters  stood  long  ago,  I  would 
have  had  some  pretensions  myself,  although  she 
thinks  I  am  too  lazy  and  trifling  to  ever  come 
to  any  good." 

Tex  took  the  banter  good-naturedly,  although 
he  blushed  red  to  the  ears  as  he  stammeringly 
confirmed  Mike's  news. 


[153] 


THE       CITY        OF        SIX 

"I've  knocked  around  this  yere  world  alone 
ever  since  I  was  a  pup,  camping  where  night 
found  me,  and  I  never  knew  what  solid  comfort 
was  until  Mrs.  Sage  came  to  the  camp.  That 
first  husband  of  hern  must  have  been  an  ornery 
hound  not  to  appreciate  such  a  woman." 

Perhaps  he  was,  but  a  sharp  tongue  will  wear 
away  the  patience  of  the  meekest  of  men;  and 
Ranee  could  not  restrain  the  thought  that  the 
deserter  had  some  justification  for  his  flight.  On 
the  other  hand,  Tex's  phlegmatic  disposition  and 
easy-going  methods  possibly  needed  just  such  a 
spur  as  Ruth  would  supply ;  and,  besides,  he  was 
now  a  capitalist  with  hazy  ideas  as  to  the  value 
of  money  or  the  risks  of  investments.  He  had 
decided  that  if  all  went  well  he  would  go  down 
to  the  great  valleys,  select  a  big  ranch,  and  raise 
cattle.  The  life  appealed  to  him;  he  had  gone 
over  the  project  with  Ruth,  who  liked  the  idea, 
and  after  they  were  married  they  would  take  a 
vacation  and  start  in  quest  of  the  promised  land. 

Then  Brant  sauntered  up,  having  held  aloof 
from  the  group  during  their  talk,  as  he  was 
virtually  an  outsider;  but  he  also  had  plans  for 
the  future  revolving  in  his  head,  and  wanted  to 
advise  with  the  capable  Mike. 

[154] 


MRS.     WAKEFIELD     AND     DOT 

"I  am  through  with  cards,"  he  said,  "and  I'm 
pretty  well  fixed.  Mining  interests  me;  it's  a 
good  deal  of  a  gamble  anyhow,  and  I  believe  that 
I  will  try  my  fortune  on  the  ridge.  The  only 
trouble  that  I  can  see  is  that  if  I  go  up  against 
the  game  with  what  little  knowledge  I  have  of 
it,  the  percentage  will  be  against  me.  In  fact, 
I  'm  a  sucker,  with  the  saving  grace  that  I  know 
it.  Now,  if  I  could  have  the  benefit  of  your 
advice  and  experience,  you  might  steer  me  right. 
You  find  the  ground,  and  I  will  put  up  the 
money." 

The  proposal  interested  Mike,  whom,  by  the 
way,  Brant  punctiliously  addressed  as  "Mr.  Don- 
ovan"; and  with  a  promise  of  having  a  further 
talk  over  it  the  party  broke  up  and  sought  their 
respective  beds. 

It  was  well  along  into  August  and  the  sum- 
mer's heat  was  at  its  fiercest,  the  grass  had 
withered  and  crackled  under  the  tread  of  feet, 
the  blue  smoke  hung  over  the  mountains  and 
dimmed  the  view,  the  alder  leaves  drooped,  the 
snow,  except  on  the  loftiest  peaks,  or  in  the  deep 
gorges  where  the  sun  shone  not,  melted  and  dis- 
appeared, the  sparkling  streams  receded  into  tiny 
rivulets,  in  the  mid-day  hours  the  piping  quail 

[155] 


THE       CITY       OF       SIX 

sought  the  shade  of  the  densest  coverts,  the 
vociferous  blue  jay  hushed  its  raucous  note,  and 
even  that  essence  of  life  and  energy,  the  red  chip- 
munk, paused  in  its  merry  round.  And  yet  it 
was  not  oppressive;  the  air  was  as  pure  and  as 
stimulating  as  old  wine,  and  there  was  relief  and 
comfort  under  the  shade  of  the  live  oak. 

The  coming  of  Wakefield  and  his  family  had 
but  temporarily  disturbed  the  routine  of  the 
camp.  The  mine  continued  to  yield  its  treas- 
ure lavishly,  the  work  had  become  methodical, 
the  company  was  not  troubled  by  intruders,  the 
channel  on  the  point  proved  to  be  the  only  rich 
gravel  on  that  side  of  the  ridge,  and  life  was 
sedate  and  prosy  and  almost  without  incident. 
There  were  those  in  the  camp  who  toiled  not; 
Ranee  loafed  and  took  his  ease,  and  Brant,  escap- 
ing from  the  sordid  life  and  vulgar  associations 
of  a  profession  that  he  was  about  to  put  behind 
him,  was  an  almost  constant  visitor. 

Mrs.  Wakefield  and  Dot,  charmed  with  the 
novelty  of  their  experiences,  soon  grew  accus- 
tomed to  the  surroundings.  The  tonic  of  the 
pines,  the  pungent  air,  the  healing  breath  of  the 
soft  winds,  the  open-siesta  air  on  the  veranda, 
had  the  desired  and  prophesied  effect ;  the  invalid 

[156] 


MRS.     WAKEF1ELD     AND     DOT 

was  soon  convalescent,  and  a  complete  cure  was 
assured.  As  for  Dot,  she  was  a  bird  let  loose, 
an  irresponsible  creature  fascinated  with  the 
novelty  of  it  all,  freed  from  the  fetters  and 
shackles  that  exacted  rigid  compliance  with  the 
narrow  customs  and  the  heed  for  established  pro- 
prieties, founded  on  generations  of  Puritanical 
limitations.  She  looked  back  on  the  social  village 
life,  where  the  least  step  outside  beaten  paths, 
the  slightest  departure  from  unwritten  but  well 
understood  laws  of  conduct,  called  forth  the 
scathing  criticism  of  the  village  gossips.  It  was 
all  so  different  here.  In  the  eyes  of  the  camp 
she  was  a  young  goddess  to  whom  all  paid  hom- 
age. The  freedom  of  the  mountains  was  hers, 
an  unfettered  domain  in  which  she  was  at  liberty 
to  walk,  to  ride,  to  pass  her  idle  hours  —  and  it 
was  all  leisure  —  at  her  own  sweet  will  —  with 
exceptions.  These  latter  were  not  very  irksome. 
Although  she  had  agreed  that  it  was  paradise, 
there  were  snakes  in  its  borders.  At  the  spring 
a  warning  rattle  had  brought  her  to  a  halt,  happily 
at  a  safe  distance.  An  ugly  head  arose  out  of 
shining  coils,  two  horrid  bead-like  eyes  shot 
threatening  glances  and  watched  for  an  aggres- 
sive movement  and  then,  much  to  her  relief,  the 

[157] 


THE       CITY       OF        SIX 

coils  unfolded  and  with  sinuous  grace  the  reptile 
glided  away  into  the  weeds  and  out  of  sight. 

She  was  warned  that  there  were  also  human 
reptiles  infesting  the  country.  Thieves  and  as- 
sassins lurked  and  hid  along  the  trails,  in  waiting 
for  the  flush  miner,  the  passing  wayfarer,  levy- 
ing illegal  tolls  and  not  hesitating  to  add  murder 
to  robbery.  An  unprotected  girl  was  not  safe 
outside  the  bounds  of  the  camp,  and  Dot  was 
entreated  to  limit  her  wanderings.  While  she 
laughed  at  the  warnings,  she  was  secretly  im- 
pressed, and  then  Ranee  had  an  adventure  that 
frightened  her  into  a  willing  obedience. 


[158] 


CHAPTER   XV 

RANGE  ESCAPES  FROM  ROBBERS  AND  FALLS  IN  LOVE 

T  T  had  been  Mike's  custom  on  Sundays  to  ride 
either  to  Downieville  or  over  to  Forest  Hill, 
taking  with  him  the  week's  product  of  the  mine 
and  depositing  it  in  the  express  office  for  convey- 
ance to  the  United  States  Assay  Office  at  San 
Francisco.  The  danger  involved  in  these  weekly 
treasure-bearing  trips  was  well  understood,  but 
Mike  was  fearless  and  withal  prudent  and  cau- 
tious, going  well  armed,  and  so  far  had  not  been 
molested.  After  Ranee's  return  this  task  had 
been  delegated  to  him,  and  as  he  had  sworn  never 
to  visit  Downieville  again  it  was  to  the  more 
distant  Forest  City  that  he  carried  the  dust.  The 
trail  did  not  climb  directly  over  the  ridge  —  the 
mountain  was  too  steep, — but  followed  along 
the  slope  westward  to  a  gap  that  cut  through 
and  gave  easy  access  to  the  basin  through  which 
Kanaka  Creek  flowed.  In  a  little  valley  just 
around  the  bend  of  the  creek,  a  Mexican  had 
pitched  his  tent,  built  a  rude  shack,  and  established 
a  wayside  stopping-place  where  mule  packers, 

[159] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

horsemen,  and  footmen  could  procure  a  meal  and 
other  minor  comforts.  He  was  assisted  in  his 
duty  as  host  by  two  daughters,  olive-skinned 
types  of  the  Spanish-Indian  mixture,  that  had 
peopled  the  country  before  the  arrival  of  the 
pestilent  "Gringo." 

Ranee  had  met  these  brown  muchachas  and 
partaken  of  their  hospitality,  and  one  Sunday  en- 
countered one  of  them,  as  he  supposed,  a  mile  or 
so  from  the  inn,  walking  along  the  path.  He 
gallantly  offered  her  a  mount  on  the  horse,  in- 
sisting that  the  animal  could  carry  double,  and 
was  somewhat  surprised  at  her  positive  refusal, 
as  the  girls  were  not  famed  for  shyness;  but  in 
deference  to  her  scruples,  he  offered  to  dismount 
and  give  her  the  sole  occupancy  of  the  saddle 
while  he  walked  alongside.  He  was  more  aston- 
ished when  she  waved  him  away  with  violent  ges- 
ture, exclaiming,  "Vayase  V.  en  seguida,  sino 
quiere  que  le  maten!"  ("Be  off  quickly,  if  you 
do  not  want  to  be  killed!")  Still  more  puzzled, 
he  had  sense  enough  to  heed,  and  rode  on  down 
to  the  inn.  Here  he  met  the  Mexican,  to  whom 
he  told  of  his  offer  and  the  emphatic  refusal, 
asking  why  the  muchacha  was  so  positive  in  de- 
clining the  courtesy. 

[160] 


RANGE   ESCAPES   ROBBERS 

<e  S&nor,  V.  se  equwoca,  ella  no  era  mi  hija  por- 
que las  dos  estdn  en  casa"  ("You  are  mistaken; 
she  was  not  my  daughter;  my  girls  are  both  in 
the  house.")  And  to  prove  to  the  incredulous 
Ranee  the  truth  of  his  assertion  he  called  them 
out  of  the  kitchen,  where  they  were  occupied  in 
the  preparation  of  a  meal.  The  mystified  Ranee 
acknowledged  his  error,  continued  on  to  Forest 
City,  deposited  his  treasure,  and  took  the  trail 
back  again.  When  he  reached  the  Mexican's 
house  he  was  met  by  two  excited  girls.  ffDios 
mio!  de  que  peligro  se  ha  escapado  V.I  Era 
Murieta  y  sus  bandoleros"  ("My  God,  what  a 
danger  you  have  escaped!  It  was  Murieta  and 
his  band.") 

It  transpired  that  Ranee  had  not  been  gone 
fifteen  minutes  when  this  famed  bandit,  who  at 
that  time  was  leaving  a  bloody  trail  throughout 
the  northern  counties,  had  dashed  up  to  the  inn, 
accompanied  by  half  a  dozen  desperadoes, 
Greasers  like  himself,  and  a  Mexican  girl,  un- 
doubtedly she  who  had  given  Ranee  the  timely 
warning.  Murieta  eagerly  questioned  his  com- 
patriot as  to  whether  Ranee  had  passed,  how 
long  he  had  tarried,  and  what  time  had  lapsed 
since  his  departure,  and  seemed  much  chagrined 

[161] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

to  learn  that  his  prey  had  escaped  him.  Ranee 
by  that  time  was  well  along  the  banks  of  the 
creek,  which  was  thickly  dotted  by  miners'  cabins 
and  too  well  settled  to  risk  a  foray. 

"Maldito  Americano!  no  podemos  cojerlo,  y 
cuando  vuelva  ya  no  tendra  nada."  ("Damn 
the  American!  we  cannot  catch  him,  and  when 
he  returns  he  will  have  nothing.") 

The  robbers  were  bold  enough  to  remain  until 
a  meal  had  been  prepared  for  them,  and  disposed 
of,  at  the  conclusion  of  which  the  renowned 
Joaquin  tossed  his  countryman  a  fifty-dollar 
gold  "slug,"  and  rode  away  down  the  ridge.  The 
girls  gathered  from  the  talk  that  they  were 
hastening  to  their  haunts  in  the  southern  counties, 
their  depredations  having  aroused  the  region 
roundabout,  and  that  they  feared  pursuit.  They 
had  learned  in  some  way  of  Ranee's  treasure- 
laden  trip,  by  a  miscalculation  had  failed  to  inter- 
cept him,  and  were  disappointed  in  missing  a 
rich  prize. 

What  motive  had  impelled  the  girl  to  warn  him 
of  his  danger  and  urge  his  escape  remained  a  mys- 
tery; but  there  was  no  doubt  that  she  had  saved 
his  life,  for  Murieta  was  a  merciless  scoundrel 
who  invariably  added  murder  to  robbery  when  a 

[162] 


RANGE   ESCAPES   ROBBERS 

hated  American  was  the  victim.  After  that  in- 
cident more  caution  was  exercised.  The  Sunday 
trip  ceased,  no  particular  day  was  chosen,  and 
Brant  went  along  as  an  escort. 

The  only  fly  in  the  honey  now  was  Wakefield's 
continued  aberrations.  Mentally  he  made  no 
improvement.  He  was  in  a  curious  state  — 
docile,  tractable,  and  yet  silent,  apathetic,  seem- 
ingly caring  little  for  his  kin  and  less  for  his 
friends.  He  submitted  to  the  loving  care  lavished 
on  him  by  his  daughter  and  Ranee  with  an  ex- 
asperating indifference  that  was  disheartening 
and  discouraging.  The  operations  at  the  mine 
were  of  no  interest  to  him,  nor  did  he  thank 
Fortune  for  the  gifts  she  was  bringing  him.  The 
past  was  a  misty  blank,  his  own  part  in  it  a  wan- 
ing memory ;  he  was  not  concerned  in  the  present, 
nor  anxious  as  to  the  future.  He  betrayed  no 
emotion,  no  feeling,  except  when  the  experiment 
was  tried  of  depriving  him  of  his  prized  volume. 
When  he  missed  it,  he  broke  into  so  fierce  an  out- 
burst of  rage  and  anger  that  haste  was  made  to 
restore  it,  and  again  in  possession,  he  relapsed 
into  indifference.  Occasionally  his  moody  silence 
gave  way  to  a  torrent  of  speech,  in  which  he 
quoted  page  after  page  of  the  plays,  and  while 

[163] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

under  this  influence  his  lacklustre  eyes  lighted 
up,  his  listlessness  dropped  away,  and  the  phan- 
toms of  his  imagination,  "spirits  called  from  the 
vasty  deep,"  became  more  real  than  the  presence 
of  the  sympathetic  circle  who  mourned  to  see — 

"That  noble  and  most  sovereign  reason, 
Like  sweet  bells  jangled,  out  of  tune  and  harsh." 

Suffering  himself  to  be  guided  like  a  little 
child,  he  ate,  slept,  and  drank  with  a  dull  regu- 
larity ;  the  remainder  of  the  time  he  gave  himself 
up  to  brooding, —  a  dead  soul  in  a  quick  body. 
All  attempts  to  rouse  him  from  this  lethargy  re- 
sulted, when  successful,  in  emphasizing  his  mania, 
and  this  quickening  of  the  intelligence  was  always 
with  the  same  result,  speech  confined  to  the  one 
matter;  and  in  that  channel  it  was  marvellous. 
It  was  as  if  his  brain  was  a  printed  book  which 
to  his  mind's  eye  was  ever  open,  a  legible  page 
from  which  his  tongue  read  at  will,  although  in- 
coherently, the  quotations  as  a  rule  being  most 
absurdly  inapplicable. 

There  were  many  anxious  consultations  anent 
the  situation.  There  was  always  the  fear  that 
his  brain  twist  might  take  violent  form,  when  he 
would  do  harm  to  himself  and  others.  Treat- 
ment in  an  asylum  was  suggested,  but  the  dis- 

[164] 


RANGE   ESCAPES   ROBBERS 

tressed  wife  could  not  bear  the  thought  of  this; 
travel  and  consultation  with  specialists  was  sug- 
gested as  an  alternative,  but  the  burden  of  his 
care  was  too  much  to  be  borne  by  those  who  would 
be  compelled  to  assume  the  guardianship ;  and  it 
was  finally  agreed  to  remain  at  the  camp,  at  least 
until  the  close  of  the  season,  in  the  meantime 
summoning  an  alienist  and  submitting  the  case 
to  him  for  such  treatment  as  might  be  determined 
upon. 

The  hamlet  sank  into  a  prosperous  and  un- 
eventful routine  with  hardly  a  ripple  to  disturb  its 
placidity.  Ruth,  despite  her  angles  and  acidity, 
had  a  warm  heart,  and  the  latent  intolerance  with 
which  she  had  at  first  accepted  the  intruders  of 
her  own  sex,  melted  away  as  her  sympathies  were 
aroused  by  their  affliction. 

"They  were  trifling  enough  to  insinuate  that 
if  we  lost  our  power  of  speech  it  would  please 
them ;  they  don't  like  to  be  told  of  their  faults  and 
shortcomings.  A  man  who  couldn't  talk,  grac- 
ious! that  is  another  thing, —  if  Mr.  Potter  lost 
his  tongue,  he  'd  lose  me." 

This  way  of  looking  at  it  did  not  hinder  her 
from  putting  the  brighter  side  of  it  before  Mrs. 
Wakefield,  and  this  was  done  with  a  delicacy  and 

[165] 


THE       CITY       OF       SIX 

tact  that  was  surprising.  The  truth  was,  Mrs. 
Ruth  was  mellowing.  The  hurt  her  mean- 
spirited  husband  had  inflicted  in  so  basely  desert- 
ing her  had  been  a  deep-rankling  wound.  She 
had  been  a  good  and  industrious  wife,  so  she 
thought,  and  did  not  comprehend  but  that  was 
her  full  duty.  The  little  thorns  she  had  carried 
under  her  tongue,  the  multitude  of  sharp  stabs  she 
had  dealt  out  to  him  in  upbraiding  him  for  his 
shiftlessness  (that  was  her  favorite  word  of  re- 
proach) ,  like  the  continual  dropping  of  water  had 
at  last  worn  him  out,  and  he  had  fled.  The  City 
of  Six  had  to  her  been  a  city  of  refuge.  If  she 
was  contentious,  the  men  smoked  their  pipes  and 
retreated  out  of  earshot.  Did  she  insist  on  that 
badge  of  servitude,  that  token  of  an  effete  and 
despised  civilization,  the  "biled  shirt,"  well,  it  was 
only  one  day  in  a  week ;  and  considering  how  con- 
sistently she  looked  after  their  creature  comforts 
in  other  matters  they  could  gracefully  concede 
the  point.  After  a  time  they  came  to  take  a  cer- 
tain pride  in  it ;  it  was  a  distinction  that  set  them 
apart  from  their  less  particular  friends  of  neigh- 
boring camps;  and  the  gibes  and  jeers  of  the 
Hepsidamers  and  the  boys  over  on  Kanaka  Creek 
were  borne  with  equanimity.  Not  by  all,  perhaps. 

[166] 


RANGE   ESCAPES   ROBBERS 

It  was  asserted  that  some  of  the  more  cowardly 
ones  kept  a  blue  woollen  shirt  hidden  out  in  the 
manzanita  thickets  and,  when  visiting  neighbor- 
ing towns,  retired  to  the  depths  of  the  chaparral, 
shed  the  white  and  donned  the  blue  again,  chang- 
ing on  their  return.  After  all,  these  concessions 
made  for  cleanliness  and  for  health  and  restraint, 
and  kept  The  City  of  Six  on  a  moral  plane  that 
was  unique  among  its  rivals. 

What  perhaps  contributed  the  most  to  sweeten 
Ruth's  acerbity,  besides  the  reflection  that  pos- 
sibly her  methods  with  her  first  husband  had  not 
been  such  as  to  insure  full  conjugal  happiness, 
was  her  altered  place  in  the  camp.  Although  her 
sway  from  the  first  had  been  supreme,  still  her 
position  to  begin  with  had  been  a  menial  one ;  she 
was  a  hired  domestic  working  for  wages.  This  had 
not  troubled  her  very  much  until  it  became  known 
that  Wakefield  was  to  return  with  his  family.  She 
felt  as  if  she  could  not  brook  a  rival,  certainly  not 
a  mistress,  who  would  interfere  in  her  duties,  arro- 
gating that  right  as  the  wife  of  one  of  the  princi- 
pal owners.  Now,  as  the  prospective  wife  of  Tex, 
she  stood  on  equal  footing,  and  as  Mrs.  Wakefield 
had  shown  no  desire  to  enter  into  any  strife  for 
mastery,  there  was  no  occasion  for  envy  or  dis- 

[167] 


THE       CITY       OF        SIX 

cord.  Instead,  her  heart  went  out  to  the  woman, 
and  her  active  sympathy  and  practical  way  of 
meeting  the  situation  went  far  to  soften  and  con- 
sole the  afflicted  wife.  Her  own  wedding  was 
set  for  no  distant  date,  and  both  she  and  Tex 
were  of  the  opinion  that  so  long  as  the  mine  con- 
tinued to  pour  out  its  golden  stream  it  would  be 
folly  to  abandon  it  for  more  uncertain  invest- 
ments. This  decision  had  been  reached  after  a 
liberal  offer  made  by  Brant  to  buy  Tex's  interest. 
The  prospective  marriage  caused  a  mild  anticipa- 
tory excitement  in  the  camp,  and  there  was  a 
general  understanding  that  the  event  was  to  be 
celebrated  in  a  way  that  would  do  credit  to  all 
concerned. 

Ranee,  since  the  arrival  of  Mrs.  Wakefield 
and  Dot,  had  degenerated  into  a  confirmed  and 
contented  idler.  He  had  been  a  favorite  with 
Ruth,  primarily  because  no  one  could  resist  his 
coaxing  ways  and  sunny  disposition.  He  was  a 
well-bred  gentleman  who  did  not  need  to  assert 
it;  his  breeding  was  obvious  and  made  itself 
manifest  in  kindly  consideration  for  others. 
However,  he  was  a  born  rebel,  and  did  not  sub- 
mit to  all  of  Mrs.  Ruth's  regulations;  but  then 
he  was  so  good-natured,  so  humble  in  his  chiv- 

[168] 


RANGE   ESCAPES   ROBBERS 

alric  deference  to  her  sex,  that  she  petted  and 
pampered  him,  looked  after  his  little  comforts, 
and  in  her  treatment  contradicted  all  her  pre- 
cepts. This  had  not  filled  the  void  in  Ranee's  life. 
He  hankered  after  the  flesh-pots  of  Egypt,  the 
luxuries  of  civilization.  He  was  a  lover  of  nature 
and  found  much  that  was  congenial  in  his  sur- 
roundings: the  mountains  appealed  to  him,  the 
liberty  of  thought  and  action  where  every  one 
was  a  law  unto  himself  was  not  unpleasant;  the 
insidious  charm  of  climate  was  working  insen- 
sibly in  his  veins,  and  he  came  back  to  it  from  his 
vacation  almost  reconciled  to  a  continuance. 

Yet  he  had  had  a  shock;  the  horrible  scene  to 
which  he  had  been  an  involuntary  witness  —  the 
murder  of  the  Mexican  woman  by  the  mob  —  had 
filled  his  soul  with  disgust.  He  could  not  look 
down  the  mountain  to  the  town  without  a  sensa- 
tion of  loathing  and  hate  for  the  savages  who 
had  committed  the  dastardly  action,  and  he  had 
religiously  kept  his  vow  not  to  put  his  foot 
again  inside  the  limits  of  the  place.  The  mem- 
ory of  the  incident  for  a  time  was  a  nightmare 
to  him,  and  he  had  about  determined  to  take  up 
his  residence  at  San  Francisco,  when  Wakefield's 
return,  his  sad  condition,  —  and  what  was  really 

[169] 


THE       CITY        OF       SIX 

the  underlying  motive  for  the  reconsideration, 
the  discovery  that  the  wife  was  a  refined  and  at- 
tractive woman  and  the  daughter  a  sweet  bit  of 
femininity  just  budding  into  womanhood,  both 
needing  in  their  perplexing  situation  the  services 
and  guidance  of  a  disinterested  friend,  persuaded 
him  to  delay.  He  found  it  a  pleasant  task  he  had 
undertaken,  and  this  was  the  deciding  influence 
that  led  him  to  postpone  his  leave-taking  and  for 
a  time  devote  himself  to  that  duty.  It  was  for- 
tunate that  Wakefield  was  so  tractable ;  he  really 
gave  no  trouble,  followed  when  bidden,  acquiesced 
in  any  suggestion,  and  was  never  more  contented 
apparently  than  when  wandering  around  the  hills 
in  company  with  Ranee  and  Dot.  His  presence 
preserved  the  proprieties  and  yet  was  no  hin- 
drance to  an  intimacy  that  was  soon  established 
between  the  pair.  Dot  and  Ranee  had  agreed  it 
was  to  be  the  ideal  friendship,  the  mutual  trust 
and  confidence  between  congenial  spirits  —  com- 
rades as  it  were,  for  Dot  had  chosen  her  path. 
She  was  to  be  the  good  angel  of  her  stricken  sire, 
his  prop  and  shield;  she  looked  ahead  to  long 
years  of  disinterested  and  loving  service  unless, 
happily,  his  restoration  to  sanity  was  accom- 
plished. What  nobler  task,  she  asked  Ranee, 

[170] 


RANGE   ESCAPES   ROBBERS 

than  to  give  oneself  to  such  a  duty?  And  he 
gravely  acquiesced,  although  perhaps  he  was  not 
quite  so  sure  of  it.  So  they  passed  the  happy 
hours  away,  loitering  in  the  green  woods  and 
under  the  stately  pines,  those  perfect  days  that 
Nature  offers  to  those  who  attune  themselves  in 
accord,  the  pagan  charm  of  the  Sierra  foothills. 
They  were  playing  with  fire,  both  man  and  maid, 
for  there  was  an  attachment,  the  growth  of  this 
daily  intimacy,  that  was  binding  them  in  stronger 
fetters  than  that  of  mere  friendship  and  was  fast 
ripening  into  a  closer  bond.  The  untutored  girl 
had  no  prescience  of  this ;  she  was  too  happy  and 
too  ignorant  to  give  herself  any  self-examination ; 
she  only  knew,  or  faintly  realized,  that  this  was 
indeed  paradise,  herself  too  pure  and  innocent  to 
anticipate  the  intrusion  of  the  serpent.  Her  father 
was  with  her  in  all  her  walks  and  wanderings, 
and  if  she  gave  any  thought  to  the  situation  it 
was  that  she  was  engaged  in  the  filial  task  that 
she  had  taken  on  herself.  There  were  hours  when 
Ranee  was  absent,  and  the  world  did  not  go  so 
well.  The  sun  did  not  shine  so  brightly,  the 
woods  were  not  so  attractive,  the  companionship 
of  the  father  became  a  little  irksome;  but  this 
she  explained  by  charging  the  tediousness  to 

[171] 


THE       CITY        OF       SIX 

moods.  "One  cannot  be  always  exalted,'"  she 
ingenuously  told  Ranee,  and  that  worthy  ad- 
mitted that  he  also  had  his  blue  days,  which 
seemed  to  fall  on  the  occasions  when  he  rode  away 
with  the  treasure  to  Forest  City,  and  this,  he 
argued,  was  due  to  the  responsibility  which,  thrust 
upon  him,  brought  him  back  to  the  practical 
affairs  of  life. 

In  the  self-communings  of  these  lonely  rides, 
Ranee  began  to  get  a  glimmering  of  the  true  con- 
ditions; and  while  he  was  neither  startled  nor 
displeased,  it  compelled  him  to  a  little  more  se- 
rious thought.  He  had  looked  upon  and  accepted 
Dot  as  a  child,  a  charming,  unsophisticated  girl 
who,  while  the  opposite  of  the  rustic  maiden  of 
his  imagination,  was  too  young  to  be  dignified 
into  a  marriageable  quantity ;  and  he  now  realized 
that  from  his  own  standpoint  he  was  as  mistaken 
in  this  as  in  his  previous  mental  deductions.  In- 
stead, she  was  budding  into  womanhood,  and  this 
tall,  graceful,  self-possessed  maiden  was  as  at- 
tractive in  person  as  in  mind.  Ranee  never 
tired  of  admiring  the  abundant  mass  of  wavy 
brown  hair,  coiled  and  crowning  her  well-poised 
head,  the  Greek  contour  of  her  profile,  the  ex- 
pressive eyes  half  hidden  under  the  long  lashes, 

[172] 


RANGE   ESCAPES   ROBBERS 

the  small  mouth  and  full  red  lips,  the  rounded 
curves  of  form  and  the  lightness  and  springiness 
of  step,  that  sign  of  youth  and  health.  And  then, 
she  was  endowed  with  an  alertness  of  mind,  a 
sense  of  humor  so  rare  in  women,  a  sympathetic 
ear;  in  fact,  when  Ranee,  in  his  meditations, 
dwelt  on  all  these  graces,  he  could  see  only  the 
perfect  woman,  and  great  was  his  wonderment 
that  such  a  pearl  should  have  found  its  way  to 
so  prosaic  a  place  as  The  City  of  Six. 


[173] 


CHAPTER  XVI 

BRANT  AND  MRS.  WAKEFIELD  BECOME  FRIENDLY 

Brant  had  come  the  knowledge  that  there 
were  compensations  to  be  found  in  legit- 
imate pursuits  that  were  unknown  in  his  old 
career.  While  he  was  the  capitalist  rather  than 
the  miner,  and  left  to  others  the  hard  work  and 
toil  and  was  only  interested  in  the  output,  yet 
he  was  as  coldly  calculating  in  his  role  of  em- 
ployer as  he  had  been  in  his  old  profession,  se- 
lecting his  men  for  their  skill  and  capacity  and 
liberally  rewarding  them  for  intelligent  service. 
Under  Mike's  guidance  he  had  bought  out  two 
promising  locations  on  the  supposed  course  of 
the  channel  just  over  the  ridge,  and  was  driving 
a  tunnel  under  the  mountain  to  intersect  it,  an 
adit  that  would  penetrate  through  some  two 
thousand  feet  of  bedrock  before  reaching  the 
gravel  bed,  if  it  existed.  This  meant  a  prelim- 
inary investment  of  at  least  twenty  thousand 
dollars,  a  dead  loss  if  there  was  a  miscalculation, 
an  unprofitable  outlay  if  the  channel  was  there 
and  the  gravel  not  so  rich  as  anticipated. 

[174] 


BRANT  AND   MRS.  WAKEFIELD 

On  the  other  hand,  all  the  old  river-beds  where 
opened  had  been  rich  with  gold,  and  success 
meant  a  return  of  a  hundred-fold. 

So  after  all  it  was  really  a  gamble,  and  as 
Brant  put  it,  if  Nature  had  not  stacked  the  cards 
against  him  he  reckoned  it  would  be  a  profitable 
deal.  As  it  would  consume  at  least  a  year  before 
the  preliminary  work  of  boring  the  tunnel  could 
be  completed,  Brant  had  but  little  to  occupy  his 
time  beyond  a  daily  ride  to  the  claims  and  a 
rather  impatient  overlook  of  the  progress  being 
made.  It  seemed  to  him  that  he  had  started  on 
an  interminable  and  never-ending  task.  It  was 
the  day  of  hand  drilling  and  black  powder  as 
contrasted  with  the  present  machine  drills  and 
dynamite,  and  although  the  work  never  ceased, 
day  or  night,  the  hard  rock  was  stubborn  and 
five  or  six  feet  was  the  average  daily  progression. 
Was  he  chasing  a  rainbow  with  the  mythical  pot 
of  gold  at  the  other  end?  Was  all  this  talk  of 
buried  rivers  and  extinguished  water  courses  a 
fantastic  theory  evolved  to  fit  the  chance  deposits 
along  the  ridge,  or  was  it  a  world-fact  that  in 
the  dim  past  that  theologians  denied  and  science 
timidly  revealed,  gigantic  forces  had  sported  with 
mountain  and  valley,  uplifting  and  remoulding, 

[175] 


THE        CITY       OF       SIX 

vomiting  ashes  and  lava  over  crest  and  canyon, 
sealing  the  book  of  record  until  the  avarice  of 
man  and  the  lure  of  gold  re-opened  its  pages? 
He  had  plenty  of  leisure  to  speculate  on  these 
problems,  although  he  vexed  his  brain  but  little 
in  that  direction.  Gambler  that  he  was,  he 
never  questioned  the  Biblical  story  of  creation, 
and  belief  taught  him  that  no  such  transforma- 
tion could  be  wrought  in  the  brief  centuries 
since  the  earth  was  evolved  out  of  chaos ;  he  had 
no  ambition  to  reconcile  science  and  religion, 
and  so  dismissed  the  subject  from  his  mind. 

While  he  had  become  an  accepted  dweller  in 
the  camp,  he  had  been  unable  to  establish  that 
same  bond  of  comradeship  that  existed  between 
the  partners.  The  original  members  had  the 
pride  of  the  pioneer;  they  had  discovered  the 
wealth  of  the  lead  that  gave  it  existence,  had 
endured  the  hardships  and  shared  the  good  for- 
tune of  its  prosperous  growth,  and  in  the  in- 
timate life  there  had  grown  a  tie  of  brotherhood, 
an  affectionate  concern  for  and  in  each  other's 
affairs  that  knit  each  closely  to  the  other.  Brant 
did  not  reach  this  inner  circle  of  fraternal  re- 
gard. He  was  an  intruder,  a  self-invited  visitor 
whose  pursuits  were  distinct  from  and  not  in 

[176] 


BRANT  AND   MRS.  WAKEFIELD 

common  with  those  of  his  associates.  Not  that 
he  was  made  to  feel  this;  on  the  contrary,  he 
was  placed  on  the  most  friendly  footing,  but 
unconsciously  the  line  was  drawn.  Mike  was 
too  busy  with  the  supervision  of  the  property 
to  give  any  of  his  valuable  time  to  hospitable 
duties;  Tex  had  his  romance  which  absorbed 
him;  and  Ranee,  to  whom  was  due  Brant's  pres- 
ence in  the  place,  had  drifted  away  in  another 
path,  taking  upon  himself  the  care  of  Wakefield, 
a  duty  more  cheerfully  undertaken,  perhaps, 
from  the  fact  that  Dot  and  her  father  were  in- 
separable. To  be  sure,  there  were  the  reunions 
at  the  table  and  the  siesta  under  the  pines  when 
twilight  fell,  but  here  a  curious  embarrassment 
arose. 

It  was  evident  that  Wakefield  had  conceived 
and  held  a  bitter  dislike  toward  Brant.  While 
this  was  not  demonstrated  by  any  marked  out- 
burst or  hostile  act,  still  by  that  telepathic 
interchange  of  mind  and  thought  Wakefield's 
intolerance  was  mentally  conveyed.  He  had 
dubbed  Brant  "lago"  at  the  first  encounter, 
and  from  that  day  had  bestowed  no  further 
recognition  beyond  a  muttered  excerpt  that  fitted 
the  treacherous  Venetian's  character.  At  times 

[177] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

his  eye  lighted  up  with  a  baleful  hate  unmistak- 
able in  its  malignancy,  and  the  little  group  feared 
an  overt  demonstration,  although  it  was  only  a 
momentary  mood,  as  he  quickly  lapsed  into  his 
usual  apathy.  His  attitude  was  more  marked 
in  the  outdoor  wanderings.  Here  nothing  would 
persuade  him  to  accept  or  remain  in  Brant's 
company,  and  any  attempt  to  share  the  walks 
was  balked  by  a  sullen  and  silent  refusal  to  join. 

As  Mrs.  Wakefield,  although  almost  restored 
to  health,  was  still  an  invalid,  she  contented  her- 
self with  a  lazy  life  that  involved  no  exertion 
beyond  the  comfort  of  a  rocking-chair  and  the 
manufacture  of  tidies  and  other  vexatious  adorn- 
ments, interrupted  by  an  occasional  visit  to  or 
from  Ruth.  Her  sorrow  over  her  husband's 
strange  affliction  became  less  poignant  as  time 
passed  and  she  bore  the  cross  without  complaint. 
There  was  always  the  hope  of  restoration  and 
the  solace  of  his  comrades'  sympathy,  and  not 
one  of  them  gave  more  sincere  expression  to  this 
feeling  than  Brant. 

Out  of  harmony  in  all  other  directions,  here 
at  least  was  a  relief  from  the  solitude  and  ennui 
that  oppressed  him,  and  it  was  not  long  before 
he  was  on  a  most  friendly  footing.  So  much 

[178] 


BRANT  AND   MRS.  WAKEFIELD 

of  his  old  life  as  would  bear  relating  he  confided 
to  her,  and  she  was  a  sympathetic  listener  and 
in  turn  gossiped  of  her  native  village,  its  op- 
pressive atmosphere  and  narrow  social  restric- 
tions, the  dull  round  of  simple  diversions,  the 
two  trips  to  that  wonderful  place,  New  York, 
visits  that  had  revealed  a  new  world  and  filled 
her  with  longing  for  an  escape  from  the  stupid 
town;  the  return  of  her  husband  and  the  aban- 
donment of  the  old  life  —  not  very  startling  or 
exciting  happenings,  for  beyond  the  voyage  to 
California  her  existence  had  run  on  without  in- 
cident. And  here  it  was  all  so  new  and  so 
strange.  The  dead  weight  of  ancient  customs 
was  lifted,  the  Puritanical  fetters  that  regulated 
the  daily  walk,  the  obsequious  deference  paid  to 
Mrs.  Grundy,  the  absence  of  those  pin-pricks  of 
village  criticism  that  tyrannized  the  conduct  and 
paralyzed  the  will  of  the  boldest;  all  these  sud- 
denly vanished,  and  although  the  little  hamlet 
numbered  scarce  a  hundred  souls,  it  was  as 
broadly  cosmopolitan  and  as  tolerant  as  the 
biggest  of  cities.  At  first  her  mind  gave  but  a 
tired  acquiescence  to  the  breaking  down  of  the 
old  barriers  and  left  her  in  a  state  of  mental 
topsy-turviness.  There  was  an  inward  protest 

[179] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

against  this  freedom  that  brooked  none  of  the 
old  restraints,  that  recognized  no  class  distinc- 
tions, that  measured  the  individual  by  his  achieve- 
ments and  ridiculed  any  pretension  that  was  not 
justified  by  his  work.  In  her  birthplace  Mike 
would  have  been  impossible,  yet  here  he  loomed 
up  as  the  one  man  capable.  He  was  illiterate, 
his  brogue  was  deliciously  absurd,  he  had  been 
a  brawler,  a  rollicking  wine-bibber,  a  type  that 
she  had  been  taught  to  regard  as  a  pariah;  here 
he  commanded  respect  and  obedience  by  force 
of  dominant  will  and  capability. 

And  Tex,  a  large-minded,  careless  frontiers- 
man, who  was  a  stranger  to  the  polish  and  social 
amenities  of  civilization  —  how  dwarfed  in  com- 
parison were  her  old  acquaintances,  the  aristo- 
cratic country  banker,  the  aspiring  clerk,  the 
humdrum  lawyer,  the  plodding  farmer,  in  con- 
trast with  this  simple  giant.  As  she  listened  to 
his  reminiscences  of  a  border  life,  thrilling  epi- 
sodes that  were  told  as  commonplace  occurrences, 
he  was  to  her  imagination  a  man  who  had  done 
things  other  than  lend  money  at  usury,  measure 
tape,  settle  village  quarrels,  or  raise  a  crop  of 
corn. 

It  was  Ranee,  however,  that  upset  all  her  tra- 

[180] 


BRANT  AND    MRS.  WAKEFIELD 

ditions  and  dispelled  lifelong  prejudices.  The 
seed  of  abolitionism  had  grown  and  flourished 
in  the  Mohawk  Valley,  and  the  slaveholder  had 
been  held  in  abhorrence  and  detestation.  While 
politics  were  of  but  little  interest  to  her,  the 
prejudices  aroused  by  the  fulminations  against 
slavery  and  slaveholders  had  so  biassed  her  mind 
that  she  could  see  no  good  that  could  come  out 
of  Nazareth;  and  yet  Ranee,  a  type  of  the  South, 
upset  all  her  theories,  beliefs,  and  traditions.  He 
was  an  oppressor  and  nigger-driver,  had  lived 
off  the  toil  and  sweat  of  the  slave,  and  yet 
was  so  absurdly  different  from  anything  she  had 
imagined.  He  was  kindly,  considerate,  tolerant 
of  others'  opinions  and  not  intolerant  in  the 
expression  of  his  own;  if  he  was  a  fair  repre- 
sentative she  would  needs  revise  her  opinions. 
Not  that  she  pondered  very  deeply  on  the  matter ; 
it  was  only  one  of  the  many  revisions  that  this 
new  life  made  necessary. 

With  restored  health  there  at  first  came  a 
sense  of  loneliness,  a  feeling  that  she  was  outside 
of  the  general  affairs  of  the  camp.  Her  hus- 
band's strange  monomania  had  brought  about  a 
partial  estrangement.  He  had  apparently  ceased 
to  recognize  her  as  a  wife,  carrying  it  so  far 

[181] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

as  to  refuse  to  dwell  under  the  same  roof.  In- 
dulging the  whim,  Ranee  had  given  him  a  bunk 
in  the  office  and  there  he  slept,  taking  his  meals 
at  the  boarding-house  and  passing  the  day  in 
woodland  rambles  with  his  daughter,  to  whom 
he  gave  a  dogged  fidelity.  As  Ranee  felt  it 
incumbent  upon  himself  to  guard  them  both, 
the  wife  saw  but  little  of  him,  and  Brant  became 
her  companion  and  consoler. 

To  the  man  the  companionship  had  an  in- 
describable charm.  Self-ostracized  from  contact 
with  all  good  women  (for  in  his  old  profession 
they  had  gathered  up  their  skirts  and  passed  him 
by  in  scorn),  his  enforced  association  with  the 
other  kind  had  bred  in  him,  a  contempt  for  the 
sex;  for  gambler  that  he  had  been,  he  had  re- 
mained a  clean  man  morally.  A  bird  of  prey,  per- 
haps, prospering  and  thriving  on  the  passions  and 
weaknesses  of  mankind,  yet  he  could  not  refrain 
from  despising  his  victims  for  their  weakness. 
"  They  know  the  percentage  is  against  them.  Why 
do  they  buck  at  the  game  ? "  was  his  comment ;  and 
then,  as  his  thoughts  wandered  to  his  late  invest- 
ments, he  wondered  if  he  were  not  going  up 
against  a  deal  where  the  cards  might  not  run  in 
his  favor.  However,  but  a  small  part  of  his 

[182] 


BRANT  AND   MRS.  WAKEFIELD 

fortune  was  staked  on  the  venture,  and  there  was 
just  enough  element  of  chance  to  interest  him 
in  the  play. 

The  little  porch  fronting  the  Wakefield  dwell- 
ing became  his  afternoon  lounging-place.  There 
was  not  much  in  common  to  talk  about,  for  he 
shrank  from  delving  into  his  own  past  and  he 
did  not  grow  over-confidential  in  his  confidences. 
Enough  that  he  had  been  born  and  bred  a  gentle- 
man, and  that  his  pride  of  family  and  descent 
remained.  He  delicately  hinted  that  his  pro- 
fession had  not  been  so  much  a  matter  of  his 
own  choosing,  having  been  forced  upon  him  by 
circumstances  beyond  his  control;  and  had  he 
not  abandoned  it  when  most  prosperous?  He 
carefully  concealed  the  fact  that  his  capital  still 
backed  the  faro  games  over  at  Moore's  Flat  and 
Alleghany,  and  that  he  was  in  receipt  of  sub- 
stantial dividends  from  these  speculative  ventures, 
and  Mrs.  Wakefield  regarded  him  as  a  brand 
plucked  from  the  burning,  a  sinner  who  had 
yielded  to  temptation  and  then  turned  back  to 
the  straight  and  narrow  path.  Poor  woman, 
her  experiences  had  been  so  limited  and  her  life 
so  humdrum,  that  a  distinction  between  a  real 
and  a  sham  reform  was  beyond  her  judgment. 

[183] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

In  truth  she  had  no  desire  to  play  the  judge. 
She  felt  herself  outside  of  the  currents  of  the 
camp.  Her  husband  treated  her  as  a  stranger; 
with  an  inward  resentment  she  understood  that 
her  daughter  had  usurped  her  place  in  his  affec- 
tions, not  comprehending  that  her  invalidism  had 
prevented  her  from  taking  active  steps  to  inter- 
fere, or  that  Dot  had  unselfishly  assumed  the 
burden.  The  mine  and  its  outpouring  of  wealth 
was  most  unattractive;  in  fact,  she  almost  hated 
it,  for  with  feminine  inconsistency,  to  it  she 
ascribed  the  misfortune  that  clouded  her  hus- 
band's brain. 

The  monotonous  days  had  passed  almost  with- 
out notice  as  to  external  impressions.  The  in- 
imitable mountains,  the  deep  gorges,  the  wonder- 
ful atmosphere,  with  their  soothing  that  had 
brought  back  health  and  should  have  renewed 
the  joy  of  living,  gave  her  no  pleasure.  Her 
soul  was  filled  with  discontent,  and  she  be- 
came possessed  with  a  desire  to  get  away 
from  it  all.  Even  Ruth  jarred  on  her  nerves; 
Ruth,  who  in  her  new  awakening  was  bloom- 
ing like  a  fresh  if  somewhat  matured  rose, 
and  could  not  understand  why  in  this  to  her 
well-ordered  world  one  should  give  way  to 

[184] 


BRANT  AND   MRS.  WAKEFIELD 

the  "hypos."  There  had  been  a  time  when  she 
had  taken  a  gloomy  view  of  life,  but  that  was 
before  Tex  had  loomed  up  large  on  her  horizon. 
Now  she  realized  that  the  ways  of  Providence 
were  strange  and  past  finding  out,  yet  worked 
for  the  good  of  those  who  trusted  and  bore  up. 
So  she  gave  well-meant  advice  to  the  wife  to 
"chipper  up,"  for  things  would  come  out  all 
right  if  she  only  had  patience  to  wait. 

Brant  took  much  the  same  view,  although  he 
contrived  to  extend  his  sympathies  a  little  more 
delicately.  He  could  enter  into  her  feelings 
with  a  more  perfect  understanding,  for  was  he 
not  a  lonely  spectator,  craving  friendship  denied 
him,  and  forced  to  endure  an  isolation  which  he 
had  not  contemplated  when  leaving  his  old  life 
behind  him?  Insensibly  the  two  grew  closer 
together  and  he  became  her  confidant  and  a 
sympathizing  listener  to  her  fancied  troubles. 
So  it  came  about  that  his  afternoons  were  passed 
upon  the  little  porch,  and  a  bond  of  intimacy 
was  established,  innocent  enough  in  its  inception, 
and  yet  more  dangerous  than  either  one  antici- 
pated. The  woman,  deprived  of  the  affection  of 
her  mate  by  a  cruel  stroke  of  fate,  and  craving 
a  sympathetic  pity,  found  those  who  should  have 

[185] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

given  it  following  their  own  devices,  and  it  was 
not  strange  that  she  gave  to  Brant  a  glimpse 
of  this  longing  for  consolation  in  her  troubles; 
nor  was  it  more  strange  that  he,  at  first  without 
any  thought  of  disloyalty  or  treachery,  found  in 
her  attitude  and  weakness  a  response  to  his  own 
mental  state. 

The  summer  days  began  to  shorten;  the  big 
pines  threw  longer  shadows  on  the  mountain- 
side; the  air  grew  chill;  the  frost  touched  the 
foliage  of  the  alder  trees,  and  they  blazed  into 
yellow;  the  oak  leaves,  detached  from  the 
branches,  sailed  through  the  air  and  heaped  up  in 
the  hollows,  or  scurried  in  battalions  down  the 
slopes.  A  sharp  shower  came  from  the  south; 
the  blue  haze  and  smoke  that  overhung  the  range 
disappeared;  the  dust,  stirred  up  from  the 
brown  dry  earth  by  every  vagrant  wind,  turning 
every  twig  and  blade  of  grass  to  a  dirty  drab, 
was  washed  away,  and  Nature  woke  up  and  put 
on  a  clean  face.  For  five  long  months  the  sun 
had  blazed  fiercely,  burning  all  vegetation  to  a 
crisp,  and  then  came  the  first  rain.  The  City  of 
Six  welcomed  the  change,  although  it  meant  the 
near  approach  of  the  storms  and  tempests  of 
winter,  the  snowfall  that  would  blanket  the  earth 

[186] 


BRANT  AND    MRS.  WAKEFIELD 

and  close  in  the  little  hamlet  for  a  long  dreary 
season.  Still,  it  would  not  be  the  complete 
isolation  of  the  previous  winter.  A  half-dozen 
prosperous  camps  had  sprung  up  over  the  ridge 
and,  by  aid  of  snowshoes,  could  be  reached.  Be- 
sides, the  little  hamlet  had  become  sufficient  to 
itself.  A  hundred  workers  could  find  resources 
in  the  way  of  amusements  that  would  break  the 
monotony.  The  town  now  boasted  a  post-office 
and  a  mail  rider  who  was  confident  of  keeping 
communication  open;  and  for  those  who  craved 
more  excitement  than  the  sober  little  camp  fur- 
nished, the  county-seat  on  the  river  below  them 
was  accessible.  With  its  five  thousand  inhabit- 
ants and  all  the  accessories  of  a  lively,  wide- 
open,  prosperous  town — gambling-houses,  hotels, 
and  even  a  theatre  —  at  Downieville,  The  City 
of  Six  would  not  be  cut  off  from  the  world. 
The  miners  were  an  exceptionally  steady  lot, 
earning  handsome  wages,  and,  barring  a  few  who 
elected  to  return  to  the  lower  foothills  and  val- 
ley, had  agreed  to  stay  with  the  camp. 

Mike  with  wise  forethought  had  brought  in 
ample  supplies  during  the  summer ;  many  cabins, 
tight  and  comfortable,  had  been  built;  mine 
timbers  and  firewood  cut,  and  all  due  prepara- 

[187] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

tions  made  for  the  comfort  of  the  men  and  the 
uninterrupted  operation  of  the  mine.  It  was  a 
wonderful  claim,  and  its  rich  yield  gave  no  pres- 
ent indication  of  exhaustion.  In  six  months  the 
gross  output  had  been  one  hundred  and  eighty 
thousand  dollars  in  virgin  gold,  of  which  the 
profit  was  about  seventy  per  cent  —  a  very  com- 
fortable dividend  for  the  quartette  of  owners  — 
and  even  Mrs.  Wakefield  felt  that  life  was  not 
all  in  vain,  and  that  while  her  burden  was  heavy 
there  were  compensations. 


[188] 


CHAPTER  XVII 

A   WEDDING    IN    HIGH    LIFE 

T  N  The  Downieville  Messenger  of  November 
7,  1853,  a  glowing  and  most  enthusiastic  de- 
scription was  given  of  the  wedding  ceremony 
which  joined  Tex  and  the  widow.  "Ye  editor," 
as  the  writer  referred  to  himself,  was  present  and, 
as  the  boys  remarked,  "slung  high-falutin' 
English  to  the  Queen's  taste."  Tex  was  referred 
to  as  a  flower  of  chivalry,  a  hero  of  a  hundred 
battles,  a  gentleman  who  had  never  retreated  in 
the  face  of  an  enemy  or  gone  back  on  a  friend, 
a  leading  and  honored  citizen  of  Sierra  County 
who  had  crowned  a  successful  career  by  the  cap- 
ture of  one  of  the  loveliest  of  her  sex,  or  rather 
had  surrendered  at  discretion  to  the  charms  of  a 
lady  whose  residence  at  The  City  of  Six  had  made 
that  camp  the  envy  of  all  of  its  neighbors.  The 
writer  was  equally  eloquent  over  the  banquet, 
"the  preparation  of  which  was  superintended  by 
the  charming  bride  herself,  a  fact  that  made  it  an 
occasion  when  'Lucullus  dined  with  Lucullus.' ' 
It  was  holiday  at  the  camp.  Ranee  and  Mike 
had  scoured  the  towns  round  about  for  every 

[189] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

delicacy  that  could  be  found  and  had  even  sent 
to  Marysville,  sixty  miles  away,  for  chickens, 
turkeys,  eggs,  and  other  high-priced  luxuries. 
Besides,  there  were  mountain  quail,  wild  pigeon, 
grouse,  venison,  and  bear  meat,  brought  in  by 
the  mighty  hunters  of  the  ridge;  and  to  these 
were  added  sundry  baskets  of  champagne, 
packed  over  from  Forest  City,  Alleghany,  and 
Moore's  Flat  —  Brant's  contribution  to  the 
occasion. 

The  Chinese  cook,  who  under  the  tuition  of 
Mrs.  Ruth  had  developed  into  a  high-class  artist, 
had  called  half  a  dozen  of  his  countrymen  to  his 
aid  and  bossed  the  kitchen  with  great  skill  and 
dignity. 

"Me  likee  Missy  Wakefield,  Missy  Dot,  me 
mo'  likee  Missy  Luth.  Melican  man  he  foolee 
me;  Missy  L.uth  she  talkee  little,  he  no  foolee 
any  mo '.  Now  she  mally  Tex,  he  belly  good  man, 
he  no  likee  she  cook.  Tong  boss,  one  bundled 
dolla  hap  me  catch,  what  fo'  wanta  betta  job?" 

Just  what  he  said  to  his  yellow-skinned  retinue 
was  beyond  ken,  but  he  drilled  them  assiduously 
in  their  duties  and  duly  impressed  upon  them  the 
importance  of  the  event.  Even  the  grinning 
squaws  had  developed  a  latent  energy  and  had 

[190] 


A    WEDDING     IN     HIGH     LIFE 

put  in  the  previous  week  in  an  orgy  of  clothes- 
washing,  for  every  man  jack  in  the  camp  felt  it 
was  due  to  Mrs.  Ruth  that  a  white  shirt  should 
be  donned  in  her  honor,  and  to  their  credit  be  it 
said  that  not  one  of  them  grumbled  over  what 
to  the  majority  was  a  distasteful  concession. 

Dot,  conspiring  with  Ranee,  had  looked  after 
the  trousseau  and  had  furnished  him  with  a  list 
which,  duly  filled  at  the  "Bay,"  had  resulted  in  a 
combination  of  lace,  silk,  and  other  tasty  adorn- 
ments that  swelled  Ruth's  heart  with  pride. 

As  for  Tex,  Ranee,  at  his  pleading  request, 
had  undertaken  his  outfit,  and  Rosenstern  over 
at  the  Flat  imported  from  "Frisco"  the  finest 
black  broadcloth  suit  procurable. 

"My  frient,  there  isn't  a  sport  in  the  State 
that's  got  a  better  one;  I  give  you  mine  honor, 
it  cost  me  a  hundred  and  twenty  dollars,  and  my 
brudder  let  me  have  it  at  wholesale  price." 

Tex  shied  at  the  white  gloves  and  begged  to 
be  let  off;  but  Ranee  was  inexorable,  and  poor 
Tex  had  a  bad  half -hour  encasing  his  big  hands 
in  them. 

"'It's  the  first  pair  of  kids  I  ever  put  on," 
he  dolefully  remarked,  "and  it  will  be  the  last; 
buckskin  is  good  enough  for  me." 

[191] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

There  had  been  one  distressing  incident  that 
for  a  time  threatened  to  put  a  damper  on  the 
festivities.  Wakefield,  who  had  been  listlessly 
lounging  around  taking  no  particular  notice  of 
the  event,  made  a  misstep  off  the  porch  of 
the  boarding-house,  and  falling,  struck  his  head 
heavily  on  a  projecting  stone  step.  The  blow 
knocked  him  insensible,  and  the  blood  trickled 
down  over  his  face  from  a  deep  scalp  wound. 
All  was  confusion  for  a  moment;  but  willing 
hands  picked  him  up,  bore  him  to  the  cabin, 
where  he  shortly  revived,  although  remaining 
somewhat  dazed  from  the  shock.  As  soon  as  it 
was  ascertained  that  it  was  not  a  serious  accident, 
the  wound  was  bound  up,  and  he  insisted  upon 
being  left  alone,  or  rather  in  company  with  Dot, 
and  attention  was  again  turned  to  the  business 
in  hand. 

The  old  cabin  had  been  utilized  as  a  dressing- 
room,  and  Ranee  was  acting  as  valet.  He  noted 
Tex  shyly  draw  forth  a  pillow-case  from  under 
the  bunk  and  pull  out  a  shirt. 

"Here,  let  me  see  that.  Where  did  you  get  it? 
Well,  I  '11  be  damned,"  he  remarked,  as  he  took 
it  away  from  the  embarrassed  Tex  and  held  it 
up  to  the  light.  It  was  an  immaculate  garment, 

[192] 


A    WEDDING    IN     HIGH    LIFE 

a  work  of  art,  plaited  and  tucked  and  finely 
stitched,  and  certainly  not  ready-made. 

"Oh,  quit  yer  foolishness;  she  made  it  and  a 
half  a  dozen  more  like  it.  Say,  Ranee,  you  don't 
think  she  '11  want  me  to  wear  this  kind  of  thing 
all  the  time,  do  you?  Once  in  a  while,  of  course, 
at  a  wedding  or  a  funeral  maybe,  but  what  does 
a  man  want  with  half  a  dozen?  Ranee,  she  has 
done  nothing  but  measure  and  measure  and  fit 
and  fit  for  two  months  past,  until  I  am  clear 
worn  out.  I  'm  damned  if  I  'd  'a  stood  it  from 
any  other  woman  on  this  yere  earth." 

"And  such  is  the  power  of  love,"  laughed 
Ranee.  "That's  the  matrimonial  yoke,  the 
badge  of  servitude,  and  you're  her  slave.  Tex, 
she  '11  wind  you  around  her  little  finger,  and  the 
funny  part  of  it  is,  you'll  like  it." 

"Maybe,"  sighed  Tex,  "but  I  reckon  she'll 
ease  up  a  little  after  we're  married."  Then  he 
braced  up  with  the  remark,  "Well,  derned  if 
she  isn't  worth  it." 

A  preacher  of  the  Methodist  South  persuasion 
had  been  brought  over  from  Forest  City;  a  mes- 
sage came  that  the  bride  was  waiting,  and  Ranee 
escorted  Tex  to  the  Wakefield  porch,  where  the 
ceremony  was  to  take  place  and  where  Mrs. 

[193] 


THE       CITY        OF       SIX 

Wakefield  and  Dot,  Brant,  and  the  editor  were 
waiting,  the  rest  of  the  camp  standing  around 
in  the  foreground.  They  were  an  interesting 
couple;  Ruth  the  picture  of  happiness,  and  Tex 
beaming  with  pleasure,  except  when  Ranee  whis- 
pered some  imperative  instruction,  such  as  "Take 
your  hands  out  of  your  pockets!" — "Let  your 
gloves  alone!" — "Hold  up  your  head  and  be  a 
man!" — "Don't  paw  around  for  the  ring." 

The  few  simple  words  were  soon  said,  and  the 
wedded  pair  were  overwhelmed  with  congratula- 
tions. Ranee  duly  claimed  the  privilege  of 
kissing  the  bride,  to  which  she  blushingly  yielded ; 
and  then  came  an  incident  that  astonished  and 
startled  the  on-lookers.  Wakefield,  who  had  sat 
at  the  end  of  the  porch  silent  and  grim  as  usual, 
walked  over  to  the  couple,  extended  a  hand  to  each 
and  said,  slowly  and  sanely,  "  He  is  a  good  man, 
and  you  are  a  good  woman ;  I  know  you  will  both 
be  happy,"  and  then  retreated,  taking  the  path 
to  the  pines.  Mrs.  Wakefield  sprang  excitedly 
to  intercept  him,  but  he  passed  her  by  without 
notice.  Dot  ran  after  him;  he  paused,  took  her 
hand,  and  they  went  away  together,  followed  by 
the  wondering  glances  of  the  assembled  crowd, 
who  realized  that  some  change  had  come  over  the 

[194] 


A    WEDDING    IN    HIGH    LIFE 

stricken  man.  Mrs.  Wakefield  broke  into  tears, 
started  to  follow,  but  was  restrained  by  Brant. 
"Better  let  him  alone  for  a  time.  Don't  you  see 
how  he  ignored  you,"  he  whispered,  "and  how 
he  scowled  at  me  as  he  went  by?"  and  she  obeyed 
his  suggestion.  It  was  rather  a  trying  moment, 
but  Mike  came  to  the  rescue.  "Let's  get  'em 
to  the  dinner,"  he  urged  Ranee;  and  so  they 
were  bidden  to  the  feast,  and  the  father  and 
daughter  disappeared  on  the  path  over  the 
plateau. 

The  old  boarding-house  had  been  transformed 
into  a  greenhouse,  the  walls  and  ceilings  hidden 
with  clusters  of  pine  sprays,  and  the  table  set 
apart  for  the  bridal  party  overhung  with  an 
American  flag.  Various  appropriate  sentiments 
were  tacked  to  the  branches,  such  as,  "Health 
and  Prosperity  to  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Potter";  "In 
Union  there  is  Happiness";  "Eat,  drink  and 
be  merry,  for  to-morrow  it  may  be  your  turn"; 
and  others  equally  pointed. 

Tong  and  his  trained  assistants  loaded  the 
tables  with  the  toothsome  viands,  the  bottles  of 
wine  popped  as  the  corks  were  drawn,  teacups 
were  filled — there  were  no  glasses  in  the  place, — 
and  all  followed  Ranee's  lead  as  he  rose  and 

[195] 


THE       CITY       OF       SIX 

toasted  the  wedded  pair.  He  was  witty  and 
eloquent  as  he  dwelt  on  the  esteem  and  affection 
in  which  the  couple  were  held,  feelingly  lavish 
in  invoking  the  blessings  which  they  deserved, 
and  the  crowd  nearly  raised  the  roof  in  its  vocifer- 
ous endorsements  of  his  sentiments.  There  were 
loud  calls  for  a  response,  but  Tex  only  grinned 
and  bowed,  and  Ruth  bubbled  over  with  glee, 
urging  her  bashful  spouse  to  get  on  his  feet. 
"For  mercy's  sake,  say  something,"  she  cried. 
"I  hope  you  ain't  struck  dumb";  and  Ranee  and 
Mike  fairly  lifted  him  out  of  his  chair.  Great 
beads  of  perspiration  stood  on  his  face,  he  awk- 
wardly shuffled  from  one  foot  to  another,  and 
finally  stammered  out: 

"Boys,  I  reckon  I  'd  rather  ride  the  worst  mus- 
tang ever  raised  in  Texas  than  try  to  make  a 
speech.  I  have  n't  got  Ranee's  gift  of  gab ;  we  were 
raised  different,  and  language  don't  come  spon- 
taneous; but  I'm  a  powerful  happy  man,  and 
I've  got  reasons,  [here  he  looked  lovingly  at 
Ruth]  the  best  of  reasons,  for  a  good  woman 
has  took  pity  on  me  and  roped  me  into  the  cor- 
ral. I'm  out  of  the  band  of  wild  cattle,  and 
I'll  soon  be  tame  enough  to  feed  out  of  the 
hand.  No  more  roving  the  plains  for  me,  for 

[198] 


As  Ranee  rose  and  toasted  the  wedded  pair. 


A    WEDDING    IN    HIGH    LIFE 

we  reckon  to  have  a  range  of  our  own,  and  when 
we  do,  you'll  always  find  the  bars  down  and  a 
welcome  when  you  ride  in."  Tex  sat  down  amid 
the  shouts  of  approval  that  followed  his  char- 
acteristic speech. 

Then  there  were  yells  for  Mike,  and  that 
worthy  responded: 

"You've  had  the  extrames,  the  illigant  and 
flowery  sintinces  that  Mr.  Poole  took  up  like  a 
sponge  when  he  wint  to  college,  and  the  native 
speech  that  my  friend  Tex  picked  up  on  the 
border;  now  you  want  the  Irish  of  it.  I  want 
to  say  to  yez  that  ye  were  an  uncivilized  lot  of 
haythen  until  Mrs.  Ruth,  God  bless  her!  took 
pity  on  you  and  learned  ye  manners.  She  's 
made  a  dacent  camp  of  The  City  of  Six ;  a  f  oine 
wife  she  will  make  for  a  dacent  man — although 
I  look  upon  it  as  undacent  for  him  to  talk  about 
being  'roped  into'  the  marriage  state,  for,  Hiven 
knows,  he  's  been  bawling  outside  the  fence  like 
a  sick  calf  for  the  past  six  months,  begging  to 
be  let  in;  and  lucky  he  was,  for  he  was  only  a 
maverick,  as  they  say  in  Texas.  We  are  proud 
of  them  both  and  lonely  we  will  be  whin,  as  I 
understond  is  their  future  intintion,  they  lave  the 
glorious  mountains,  the  pure  strames,  and  the 

[197] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

pine  forests  of  Sierra,  to  take  up  their  risidence 
in  a  cow  country,  where  there  is  no  hump  in  the 
earth,  rivers  run  stagnant,  and  not  a  tree  to  the 
square  mile  of  country.  Maybe  we  can  persuade 
thim  to  stay  until  the  ould  mine  plays  out.  May 
it  be  a  year  before  that  happens!  And  now  I 
want  to  tinder  a  little  token  that  the  byes  have 
delegated  me  to  presint  in  honor  of  the  event. 
Bring  them  in,  you  saffron-colored  gossoon!" 
Tong  trotted  out  and  returned,  bearing  a  silver 
box  chased  with  scrolls  and  fretwork  and  the 
initials  of  the  bride. 

Opening  it,  Mike  picked  out  gingerly  a  mas- 
sive necklace  of  exquisite  design  and  workman- 
ship, to  which  hung  a  pendant  encrusted  with 
seed  pearls  with  a  beautiful  bronze  pearl  in  the 
centre,  the  work  of  an  East  Indian  jeweller, 
a  master  of  his  art.  He  handed  it  to  Ruth, 
who  for  the  first  time  in  her  life  was  speechless. 
Tears  of  sentiment  and  pleasure  dimmed  her 
eyes  as  she  struggled  to  overcome  her  emotion, 
and  she  finally  gasped  out,  "Oh,  how  good  you 
all  are!"  Her  heart  went  out  to  the  rough  men 
that  she  had  bossed  and  scolded  and  cared  for, 
and  they  were  as  pleased  as  a  lot  of  happy 
children. 

[198] 


A    WEDDING    IN    HIGH    LIFE 

Then  Tong  staggered  in  under  the  burden  of 
a  Mexican  saddle  and  bridle,  the  gift  that  had 
been  chosen  for  the  groom.  It  was  one  of  those 
wonderful  affairs  affected  by  the  Mexican  dandy, 
the  saddle  pommel  sheathed  in  beaten  silver,  and 
at  least  two  hundred  Mexican  dollars  riveted  to 
the  stamped  leather  coverings;  the  bridle  reins 
and  reata  of  the  finest  braided  hair,  and  the 
whole  outfit  an  equipment  that  would  serve  to 
turn  a  native  vaquero  green  with  envy.  The 
miners  had  sent  a  messenger  to  Santa  Barbara 
with  orders  and  coin  to  get  the  best  to  be  had, 
and  he  had  succeeded  in  his  mission.  Again, 
Tex  responded  briefly,  echoing  his  wife's  words, 
"How  good  you  are,  boys!"  and  the  formal  part 
of  the  feast  was  over. 

For  men  of  temperate  habits,  they  did  full 
justice  to  the  champagne,  which  sparkled  and 
bubbled  in  the  plebeian  teacups,  and  was  enjoyed 
with  as  much  zest  as  if  served  in  finest  crystal 
goblets;  they  joked  and  bantered,  and  as  the 
minutes  slipped  away,  at  last  grew  uproarious; 
at  which  stage  the  wedded  pair  quietly  retired 
and  sought  their  modest  quarters,  leaving  the 
roisterers  to  their  gayety. 

There  was  one  couple  who  took  but  little  part 

[199] 


in  the  merriment.  Mrs.  Wakefield  was  dis- 
traught and  dazed.  The  sane  words  of  con- 
gratulation spoken  by  her  husband,  his  abrupt 
withdrawal  from  the  scene,  and  his  prolonged 
absence  with  Dot,  filled  her  heart  with  a  vague 
and  oppressive  terror,  while  Brant  sat  as  im- 
passive and  emotionless  as  a  sphinx. 

"What  ails  them?"  asked  Mike  of  Ranee, 
"sure,  one  would  think  it  was  a  funeral  instid  of 
a  weddin'  from  the  way  they  behave." 

"Oh,  I  suppose  she  is  thinking  of  the  difference 
between  Tex  and  her  husband,"  replied  Ranee, 
as  he  watched  Brant  and  the  woman  make  their 
exit,  although  the  explanation  did  not  seem  to 
satisfy  him,  and  it  was  a  perplexed  and  troubled 
gaze  that  followed  the  retreating  pair.  He  had 
paid  no  attention  to  the  growing  intimacy  be- 
tween them,  given  it  no  thought;  but  now  he 
remembered  that  they  had  been  practically  left 
alone,  and  he  recalled  that  in  his  interest  in  the 
daughter  he  had  neglected  the  mother  and  de- 
serted his  quondam  friend.  It  came  to  his 
memory  that  in  the  past  months  he  had  noticed 
them  occupying  the  porch  together,  and  he  won- 
dered. "Oh,  damn  it,  what  a  fool  I  am,"  he 
muttered  impatiently,  struggling,  as  he  stepped 

[200] 


A    WEDDING    IN    HIGH    LIFE 

out  of  doors  and  walked  toward  the  office,  to 
dismiss  the  disloyal  thoughts  from  his  mind. 
He  had  not  gained  the  threshold  when  Dot  came 
fluttering  out  of  the  twilight,  sobbing  and  gasp- 
ing with  incoherent  speech. 


[201] 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

WAKEFIELD  IS  HIMSELF  AGAIN 

H,  Ranee,  dear  Ranee!"  she  cried,  tottering 
into  his  outstretched  arms  —  a  thrill 
pierced  him  as  the  affectionate  call  smote  his 
ear, — "come  with  me  quick.  Father  is  waiting 
for  you  at  the  spring,  and  he  is  no  more  crazy 
than  you  are." 

Ranee  stroked  her  hair,  bent  down  and  kissed 
her  cheek,  the  first  liberty  he  had  permitted  him- 
self to  take,  and  there  was  no  need  of  words, — 
they  both  understood.  As  says  the  proverb, 
"Love  goes  where  it  is  sent."  If  the  summer 
had  been  a  dream  of  paradise,  this  moment  was 
the  conscious  awakening  to  its  reality;  and  these 
two  souls  began  the  first  chapter  of  the  old  story 
to  which  their  wood  wanderings  had  been  the 
preface.  Whatever  this  glimpse  into  each  other's 
hearts  might  signify  to  either  or  both,  the  ex- 
planation had  to  be  postponed  as  the  more  mo- 
mentous fact  of  the  father's  changed  mental 
condition  demanded  their  immediate  attention. 

Dot  had  left  him  among  the  pines  while  she 

[202] 


WAKEFIELD    HIMSELF    AGAIN 

hurried  away  to  find  Ranee  and  her  newborn 
joy  was  tempered  with  the  fear  that  it  was  but 
a  momentary  flickering  of  reason  and  that  he 
would  have  lapsed  into  his  unbalanced  state  be- 
fore her  return.  Grasping  Ranee's  hand,  which 
held  hers  with  loving  pressure,  they  sped  back, 
to  find  him  standing  and  gazing  with  a  puz- 
zled look  toward  the  cluster  of  houses  on  the 
plateau,  listening  intently  to  the  sounds  of  merry- 
making that  echoed  through  the  pines. 

"What  is  it,  Dorothea,  why  are  you  crying?" 
he  asked  as  his  daughter  flung  herself  upon  his 
breast,  sobbing  with  joy;  "Ranee,"  turning  to 
his  partner,  "what  does  it  mean?" 

"It  means  that  you  have  come  back  to  us, 
thank  God!  —  our  old  Dean,  I  hope,"  joyfully 
answered  Ranee,  who  felt  that  indeed  Wakefield 
had  found  his  way  to  light  and  reason. 

There  was  a  subtle  but  convincing  change  in 
his  voice  and  bearing  that  left  no  doubt  in 
Ranee's  mind  that  he  had  indeed  recrossed  the 
border  land  to  sanity  and  that  his  hallucinations 
had  vanished.  And  it  came  to  him  that  it  was 
an  augury  of  his  own  happiness,  for  although 
no  word  had  been  spoken,  no  vows  pledged,  he 
felt  that  Dot  was  his  own;  and  with  this  knowl- 

[203] 


THE       CITY       OF        SIX 

edge  what  could  be  more  auspicious  than  this 
seeming  miracle  that  brushed  away  the  mists  be- 
fogging Wakefield's  brain  —  the  only  shadow 
on  their  mutual  love? 

"Tell  me,  Ranee,"  implored  Wakefield,  "what 
is  it?  I  know  I  have  been  in  trouble,  but  how 
and  where?  When  did  I  get  back  here?  You 
met  me  at  San  Francisco  when  the  steamer 
arrived;  I  thought  we  were  at  the  hotel,"  and  he 
drew  his  hand  across  his  forehead  as  if  to  wipe 
the  tangle  away,  and  looked  beseechingly  at 
Ranee  and  Dot  for  an  explanation. 

"Sit  down,  pard,  and  we  will  explain,"  replied 
Ranee.  "There  has  been  a  little  mix-up,  but  I 
reckon  it  is  all  over  with  now.  You  're  at  The 
City  of  Six  with  your  wife  and  Dot,  Mike  and 
Tex  and  Ruth.  You  don't  know  Ruth;  she's 
Mrs.  Tex  now.  There  has  been  a  wedding  in  the 
camp  and  that 's  what  is  going  on  down  there." 

"My  wife?"  and  his  face  took  on  a  serious 
expression.  "Where  is  she?  Has  anything  hap- 
pened to  her?  She  was  sick;  I  have  had  a  bad 
dream;  she  was  in  trouble  and  was  going  away 
from  me." 

"Easy,"  said  Ranee  soothingly,  "you  have  got 
your  senses  back  again — that's  the  main  thing; 

[204] 


WAKEFIELD    HIMSELF    AGAIN 

your  wife  is  all  right  and  is  waiting  for  you  down 
at  your  house,  and  there  will  be  double  rejoicing 
when  we  go  back.  But  it  is  better  that  you 
should  know  that  you  have  been  wandering  away 
from  us  all  for  months  —  that  is,  in  your  mind  — 
and  taken  up  with  a  chap  called  Shakespeare, 
whom  I  hope  you  will  now  leave  in  the  lurch. 
I  am  sure  that  the  wife,  Dot,  Mike,  and  myself 
will  be  better  companions." 

"I  don't  know  what  you  are  driving  at  about 
Shakespeare,"  retorted  Wakefield.  "What  has 
he  got  to  do  with  the  case  ? —  that  is,  if  you  mean 
the  Shakespeare  who  wrote  the  plays.  I  remem- 
ber that  we  used  to  read  them  together  in  the  old 
cabin  before  I  went  home,  but  how  does  he  in- 
terest me,  and  what  has  he  to  do  with  my 
affairs?" 

"He  has  this  much  to  do,"  responded  Ranee, 
"that  for  six  months  you  have  flung  him  at  our 
heads  at  all  times  and  on  all  occasions;  that  I 
have  been  Romeo,  and  Orlando,  Mercutio,  and 
Hamlet;  Dot  has  been  appealed  to  as  Rosalind, 
Beatrice,  and  Juliet;  your  wife  as  Desdemona 
and  Imogene;  and  one  poor  fellow,  who  is  a 
stranger  to  you,  you  have  be-plagued  with  the 
role  of  lago.  You  have  the  text  by  heart;  you 

[205] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

know  that,  don't  you? — 'Like  sweet  bells  jangled 
and  out  of  tune.' ' 

Wakefield  gave  him  a  puzzled  look.  "Ranee, 
explain  it  all;  it  seems  to  me  that  if  any  one  is 
out  of  his  mind,  it  is  you." 

Briefly,  Ranee  went  over  the  past,  beginning 
with  the  symptoms  as  they  first  appeared  on  his 
arrival  at  the  Bay,  of  Wakefield's  erratic  words 
and  actions,  the  role  that  Shakespeare  had  played 
—  the  grief  of  his  friends,  the  restoration  to 
health  of  his  wife,  the  constant  attendance  of  Dot 
and  himself,  the  fortunes  of  the  camp,  the 
romance  of  Tex  and  Ruth,  to  all  of  which  Wake- 
field  listened  wonderingly  and  almost  incredu- 
lously. Those  days  were  a  blank  in  his  life, 
Shakespeare  a  myth  —  he  could  not  recall  a  line 
to  memory;  it  was  as  if  he  had  awakened  from 
a  long  sleep  with  a  semi-consciousness  that  there 
had  been  a  disturbing  and  oppressive  nightmare, 
and  the  soul  of  the  man  wondered  at  the  relation. 
It  was  the  old,  sober-minded,  practical  Wake- 
field  that,  hand  in  hand  with  his  daughter  and 
arm  around  Ranee's  neck,  walked  along  the  path 
and  approached  the  crowded  porch  of  the  house 
that  was  his  own,  and  yet  he  knew  it  not.  His 
wife  fluttered  down  the  steps,  struggling  emo- 

[206] 


WAKEFIELD    HIMSELF   AGAIN 

tions  possessing  her — fear,  restraint,  timidity, 
which  culminated  in  an  hysterical  outburst  as  she 
was  folded  in  his  arms.  To  the  onlookers  it  was 
a  sacred  moment,  and  with  an  understanding 
that  greeting  and  congratulations  best  be  de- 
ferred they  made  way  for  the  couple  to  enter 
their  dwelling.  What  passed  between  man  and 
wife  at  this  supreme  moment  was  never  revealed 
or  referred  to  by  either;  but  it  is  to  be  presumed 
that  it  was  a  happy  reunion. 

Mike,  Tex,  and  Ruth  eageily  questioned  Ranee 
and  Dot  and  rejoiced  over  the  strange  and  sud- 
den return  to  them  of  the  old  Wakefield. 

"Sure,  if  the  old  man  has  got  his  wits  again 
ye  can  take  your  holiday  and  go  a  honeymooning 
after  that  cattle  ranch,"  said  Mike  banteringly 
to  Tex  and  the  bride,  who  had  returned  to  meet 
Wakefield.  "It's  a  substitute  he'll  be,  and  a 
good  one  if  he's  the  same  as  he  was  before  he 
took  up  with  Mr.  Shakespeare.  I've  not  much 
use  for  thim  poets,  anyhow.  Good-night  to  you, 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Potter, —  it 's  sleepy  you  must  be, 
but  think  of  the  good  you've  done.  It's  many 
a  man  laves  his  sinses  behind  him  when  he  gets 
married,  but  here  you've  brought  a  good  man 
back  to  his." 

[207] 


THE       CITY       OF       SIX 

The  happy  pair,  laughing  at  Mike's  banter, 
retired,  and  he  turned  to  Ranee  for  a  chat;  but 
Ranee  had  other  business  in  hand. 

"I'll  meet  you  at  the  office  directly,  Mike;  I 
want  to  say  something  to  Miss  Wakefield." 

Mike  glanced  at  Dot's  beaming  face,  whistled, 
and  turned  on  his  heel. 

"Say  something  to  Miss  Wakefield,  is  it? 
What  have  you  been  doing  for  months  past  but 
saying  something  to  her?  Well,  she's  a  foine 
girl  and  I  do  be  hoping  that  it  is  the  proper 
spache  you  '11  whisper  to  her.  I  'm  a-thinking 
that  there  will  be  another  wedding  in  The  City 
of  Six  before  long." 

What  Ranee  said  to  the  blushing  girl  has  been 
said  over  and  over  since  the  creation;  and  yet 
under  the  stars  they  told  each  other  the  old  story, 
yet  so  new,  so  novel  to  them,  and,  when  they 
parted,  Dot  trembling  with  new-found  happiness, 
and  Ranee  rilled  with  a  great  joy,  they  both  dis- 
dained the  belief  that  their  experience  was  the 
most  frequent  and  commonplace  of  happenings. 

Leaving  the  girl  at  her  door  with  a  good-night 
and  a  salute  that  fully  persuaded  her  that  the 
place  was  paradise  after  all,  Ranee  made  his  way 


[208] 


WAKEFIELD    HIMSELF    AGAIN 

to  the  office,  where  Mike  was  awaiting  him  to 
discuss  the  change  in  affairs. 

"Do  you  belave  that  the  ould  man  and  Shakes- 
peare have  bade  each  other  good-bye?"  was 
Mike's  first  question. 

Ranee  told  of  Wakefield's  utter  forgetfulness 
of  the  immortal  bard  and  his  works,  his  apparent 
recovery,  and  his  recollection  of  his  old  life  up  to 
a  certain  point,  and  expressed  his  belief  that  the 
cure  was  permanent. 

"Sure,  if  the  twist  is  out  of  his  head,  it's 
plased  I  am,  for  I  liked  him  amazingly  and  it 's 
wearied  I  have  been  of  being  called  out  of  me 
name.  It's  Michael  Cassio  I've  stood  for  to 
him  for  months  gone,  and  it 's  Mike  Donovan  I 
want  to  be,  for  that  will  mane  that  he  will  be 
ready  to  take  hold  and  help  run  the  property. 
Marriage  will  spile  Tex  until  he  becomes  saisoned, 
and  that  will  take  the  winter.  Let  him  go  buy 
his  cattle  ranch  and  come  back  when  love's  young 
drame  is  over.  But,  Ranee,  there 's  one  man  in 
the  camp  that's  not  filled  too  full  with  joy. 
What  is  it  ails  your  sporting  friend  Mr.  Brant? 
A  blacker-looking  man  I  've  never  seen  than  him 
since  Miss  Dot  came  with  the  joyful  news;  and 


[209] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

the  wife  was  n't  the  happiest  woman  in  the  camp 
by  no  manner  of  means." 

"What  do  you  mean?"  demanded  Ranee. 
"Why  should  he  look  black,  or  the  wife  be  un- 
happy?" 

"I  mane  nothing,  Ranee,  except  what  I  have 
seen.  What  with  your  walks  and  your  talks  and 
your  doddering  around  with  the  ould  man  and 
the  girl,  it's  little  else  you've  noticed.  You  all 
seem  to  have  forgot  that  there  was  an  interesting 
invalid  that  had  some  slight  demand  on  her 
daughter's  time  as  well  as  yersilf  and  her  crazy 
father;  if  you  didn't,  Brant  did,  and  it's  his  best 
he  has  been  doing  to  console  her  for  the  want  of 
attintion  she 's  had  from  the  rest  of  you." 

"  You  're  not  hinting,  Mike,  that  there  is  any- 
thing wrong  —  you  can't  mean  that?"  exclaimed 
Ranee. 

"I  nather  said  it  nor  hinted  it,"  retorted  Mike, 
"but  I  do  know  that  they  have  been  planted  on 
the  porch  together  every  day  for  a  long  time 
past,  that  the  camp  's  been  talking,  and  I  broke 
one  man's  head  for  his  impidence.  I'm  saying 
nothing,  Ranee,  except  to  my  frind,  and  that's 
you;  but  Mr.  Brant  is  not  overly  plased  with 
the  developments  of  this  night;  and  the  words 

[210] 


WAKEFIELD    HIMSELF    AGAIN 

that  he  said  to  her,  that  I  could  n't  help  hearing, 
don't  have  the  right  sort  of  a  sound.  '  Kape  your 
sinses  and  don't  betray  yersilf,  darlint.'  His 
darlint,  and  she  a  married  woman!  He  should 
have  a  hint  that  it  is  glad  to  see  his  back  we  will 
be." 

Ranee  was  startled  both  at  the  earnestness  of 
his  friend  and  the  seeming  truthfulness  of  his 
remarks.  Wrapped  up  in  his  own  romance,  he 
recalled  that  he  had  seen  but  little  of  Mrs.  Wake- 
field  or  Brant  for  some  time  and  had  paid  no 
attention  to  either  of  them.  He  was  aware  that 
Dot  was  prejudiced  against  the  intruder  and  had 
shunned  him,  and  that  Wakefield  himself  had 
held  Brant  in  utter  detestation.  This  he  had  at- 
tributed to  one  of  his  mad  freaks.  Now  he 
recalled  a  hundred  trivial  circumstances  that  in 
the  light  of  Mike's  words  gave  some  justification 
to  them,  although,  after  all,  the  mere  open  inti- 
macy was  no  proof  of  any  wrongdoing,  and  so 
he  argued  with  Mike  and  to  himself;  and  Mike 
acquiesced,  adding, 

"Anyway,  the  ould  man  is  not  poetry-struck 
any  longer  and  it's  able  he  is  to  look  after  his 
own  affairs.  I  don't  like  your  frind  very  well 
mesilf.  He's  as  cold-hearted  as  the  snow  in  the 

[211] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

gulch ;  and  while  he 's  straight  enough  in  a  busi- 
ness way,  I  would  as  soon  have  a  snake  for  a 
partner.  Mind  ye,  Ranee,  the  man  that  can't 
make  frinds  with  a  dog,  —  give  him  the  go-by. 
Did  ye  ever  see  Jack  wag  his  tail  or  put  on  a  glad 
look  when  Brant  Phillips  was  by?  Ye  did  not." 

Jack  was  the  dog,  almost  forgotten  in  the 
story,  whose  rescue  had  introduced  Brant  to 
Ranee's  acquaintance.  He  had  grown  plump 
and  lazy  in  his  new  home  and  by  his  amiable  and 
persuasive  ways  had  won  the  affection  of  the 
whole  camp.  Even  Ruth  tolerated  and  had  been 
known  to  pet  him,  but  he  had  singled  out  Mike 
and  Ranee  as  the  two  to  whom  he  owed  allegiance 
and  gave  them  a  devoted  loyalty.  He  was  lying 
in  front  of  the  office  fire  during  the  conversation 
and  seemed  to  know  that  he  was  called  on  the 
witness  stand,  for  he  got  up  and  thrust  his  nose 
into  Mike's  fist  and  gazed  at  him  with  his  intel- 
ligent eyes,  as  if  to  sustain  Mike's  charge. 

"It 's  a  good  judge  of  character  you  are,  Jack, 
and  it's  no  use  ye  have  for  the  'sport';  but  by 
that  same  token  ye 're  an  ungrateful  baste,  as 
he  did  just  as  much  to  protect  ye  as  Mr.  Ranee. 
It 's  a  fact  I  'm  telling  ye,  Ranee ;  coax  as  he  may 
with  frindly  words  or  what  else,  it's  not  a  bite 

[212] 


WAKEFIELD    HIMSELF   AGAIN 

that  Jack  will  take  from  his  hand,  or  a  wag  of 
the  tail  he  '11  give  him  in  spite  of  what  he  may  do. 
Well,  never  mind  me  suspicions!  The  ould  man 
is  himself  again  and  that  will  end  the  foolishness, 
anyway.  It's  a  disagreeable  subject;  and  I'm 
thinking  ye  have  a  more  pleasant  one  occupying 
your  mind.  Ranee,  a  nicer  girl  never  trod  down 
a  wild  flower  on  the  mountain ;  and  I  hope  I  'm 
not  too  pravious  in  extinding  me  congratulations. 
I  love  ye  as  if  ye  were  me  own  bye,  and  I  want 
to  see  ye  as  happy  as  ye  desarve  to  be." 

A  grip  of  the  hand  was  Ranee's  reply,  and  he 
did  not  deny  that  Mike  had  guessed  their  secret. 

It  had  been  an  eventful  day  in  The  City  of  Six 
and  its  principals  were  stirred  to  the  depths  by 
the  various  happenings.  There  was  but  one  who 
did  not  fully  partake  in  the  added  sum  of  hap- 
piness that  had  come  to  so  many,  and  she,  who 
should  have  been  the  most  pleased  of  all,  sat  by 
her  husband's  side,  wondering  what  the  future 
had  in  store  for  her. 


[213] 


CHAPTER   XIX 

HALF-FORMED    PLANS 

rpHE  day  succeeding  the  wedding  the  camp 
resumed  its  wonted  routine.  The  day  shift 
partook  of  their  early  breakfast  with  much  dis- 
cussion and  comment  on  the  events  of  the  pre- 
vious day. 

"It  about  broke  even,"  sarcastically  remarked 
a  cynical  miner,  "one  man  came  to  his  senses  and 
another  lost  his,"  it  being  the  speaker's  view  that 
marriage  was  indicative  of  a  weak  mind ;  but  this 
met  with  general  rebuke,  as  it  was  considered  a 
reflection  on  Mrs.  Ruth. 

"Don't  fool  yourself  with  any  such  idea, 
young  man,"  retorted  another  of  the  crowd; 
"there  is  nothing  looney  about  Tex.  It 's  good 
judgment  he  showed  when  he  persuaded  the  land- 
lady to  share  his  fortunes,  and  you  will  think  so 
when  you  change  to  China  grub.  I  wonder  if 
Wakefield  has  really  gotten  over  his  looney 
streak;  if  he  has,  there  will  be  another  boss  to 
reckon  with,  and  it  won't  be  at  the  mine  only. 
I  should  n't  be  surprised  if  Black  Brant  [the 

[214] 


HALF-FORMED      PLANS 

nickname  bestowed  on  Phillips  by  the  men]  got 
a  notice  to  find  some  other  porch  to  loaf  on." 

The  chatter  showed  that  the  camp  had  noted 
the  intimacy  and  were  inclined  to  gossip,  but  the 
entrance  of  Ranee  and  Mike  put  an  end  to  it  and 
the  men  dispersed  to  their  work. 

"I'm  as  nervous  as  a  cat,"  said  Mike  to  his 
comrade,  "and  it's  a  dread  I  have  of  meeting 
the  ould  man  this  morning.  If  he  misnames  me 
'Michael  Cassio,'  who  you  tell  me  was  no  Irish- 
man at  all  but  a  furriner  from  Italy,  then  I'll 
despair  of  him." 

"Let  us  hope  for  the  best,"  laughed  Ranee. 
"Here  he  comes  with  Miss  Dorothea,  and  she 
would  n't  be  smiling  like  that  if  he  had  gone  back 
on  himself  again." 

"Miss  Dorothea,  is  it?  How  formal  ye  are  this 
morning!  But  ye  have  an  eye  for  the  smile  on 
her  face.  I  trust  ye  will  never  see  it  otherwise." 

With  this  pious  wish  Mike  flung  the  door  open 
and  greeted  the  pair. 

"It's  as  pretty  as  a  mountain  quail  ye 're 
looking,  Miss  Dorothea";  and  to  the  old  man, 
shaking  Wakefield's  proffered  hand,  "Are  ye 
finding  yersilf  all  right  this  day?" 

It  needed  no  assurance  that  he  was.    The  va- 

[215] 


THE       CITY       OF       SIX 

cant,  listless  look  had  disappeared,  and  the  ani- 
mation and  evident  pleasurable  interest  with 
which  he  met  his  comrades  betokened  that  he  had 
come  to  his  own  again.  He  was  quite  overcome 
with  emotion,  for  although  his  memory  was  at 
fault,  —  almost  a  complete  blank  for  the  past  six 
months, — he  realized  that  his  wits  had  been 
wandering,  and  the  joy  of  recovery  was  tempered 
with  the  apprehension  that  he  might  again  cross 
the  border-land. 

"  I  'm  all  right,  Mike,  and  know  what  has  hap- 
pened. Dot  has  told  me  all  about  it,  but  the 
cause  of  it  all  is  a  mystery.  There  have  been 
moments  when  I  knew  you  and  I  would  try  to 
tell  you  that  I  was  not  crazy;  then  you  would 
fade  away  out  of  my  mind  and  all  sorts  of  queer 
fancies  take  possession  of  me.  Last  night  sud- 
denly, while  sitting  with  Dot  at  the  spring,  the 
cloud  seemed  to  roll  away,  my  old  life  came  back 
to  me  as  clear  as  the  day  I  left  the  camp,  and 
although  I  was  confused  and  puzzled  and  had  to 
grope  to  get  my  bearings,  I  realized  that  I  was 
back  in  The  City  of  Six;  and  then  Ranee  came 
with  Dot.  Well,  you  know  the  rest." 

Standing  in  the  doorway  looking  at  the  sur- 
roundings, he  continued: 

[£16] 


HALF-FORMED      PLANS 

"Mike,  this  is  not  the  place  that  I  left  behind 
last  spring.  Then  it  was  only  a  couple  of  cabins, 
now  it  is  a  town.  Have  they  struck  new  diggings 
besides  our  old  claim?" 

"It's  a  lot  you  have  to  see,"  answered  Mike. 
"There  is  no  new  diggings  except  the  ould  one. 
You  're  a  man  of  property  and  you  are  making 
money  while  you  slape.  It 's  a  thousand  dollars 
a  day  the  mine  is  good  for,  and  there's  many  a 
day's  work  in  it  yet.  Get  your  breakfast  and  we 
will  look  it  over.  Is  the  wife  a-coming?  I  'm 
thinking  that  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Potter  will  have  a 
late  meal  this  morning." 

Dot  answered  that  her  mother  was  not  feeling 
well  and  that  she  would  take  up  some  tea  and 
toast  to  her  later,  and  they  sat  down  to  the  table. 
Tong  had  prepared  an  appetizing  meal  and  was 
bustling  around,  bringing  in  various  dishes  and 
watching  to  see  if  full  justice  was  done  to  the 
contents. 

"This  is  my  successor,"  said  Ranee,  "a  pupil 
of  Mrs.  Ruth,  and,  as  she  has  abdicated,  the  cock 
of  the  walk  henceforth." 

Tong  grinned.  "Mistel  Lance,  he  likee  joke; 
allee  same  he  belly  good  man.  Now,  me  kitchen 
boss,  me  chief  cook.  Missy  Luth,  she  go 

[217] 


THE        CITY       OF       SIX 

away,  I  get  bundled  dolla  hap  a  month.  She 
teachee  me;  allee  men  likee  my  glub."  With 
which  tribute  to  his  own  talents  Tong  retired  to 
the  kitchen  to  boss  his  two  assistants,  Chinamen 
whom  he  had  brought  to  the  camp  to  partake  of 
its  fatness. 

"And  Mrs.  Potter,  what  of  her?  She  seems 
to  be  quite  a  new  acquisition  and  quite  an  im- 
portant member  of  the  community,"  queried 
Wakefield. 

Ranee  briefly  related  the  circumstances  attend- 
ing Ruth's  coming,  her  idiosyncrasies,  her  good 
heart,  her  enslavement  of  Tex,  culminating  in  the 
wedding  of  the  previous  day,  a  date  promising 
to  be  still  more  notable  in  the  annals  of  the  camp 
by  the  disappearance  of  Wakefield's  malady. 
The  relation  was  brought  to  a  close  by  the  com- 
ing of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Potter  to  their  morning 
meal. 

They  were  welcomed  by  just  one  little  jibe 
from  Mike.  "It's  late  ye  are  to  breakfast  this 
morning,  Tex,  and  you  that  were  always  so  early 
a  riser";  but  this  passed  unnoticed  in  the  hearty 
greetings  between  Tex  and  "the  old  man."  It 
was  really  pathetic  when  the  fact  was  taken  into 
consideration  that  they  had  met  daily  for  months 

[218] 


HALF-FORMED      PLANS 

past,  but  all  the  members  of  the  party  had  the 
tact  not  to  allude  to  it.  Then  Tex  introduced 
Mrs.  Potter, —  a  softened,  blooming  Ruth,  who 
in  her  new-found  happiness,  was  pleased  that 
another  wife,  as  she  believed,  was  rejoicing  in  the 
return  to  her  arms  of  an  estranged  loved  one. 

Learning  of  Mrs.  Wakefield's  indisposition, 
Ruth  insisted  on  preparing  the  tea  and  toast  and 
going  with  Dot  to  the  house,  leaving  the  men  to 
discuss  the  situation.  As  Mike  pulled  out  a  plug 
of  tobacco,  cut  off  a  pipeful  and  deliberately 
filled  and  lighted  it,  Wakefield  regarded  him 
enviously  and  finally  broke  out, 

"Mike,  have  you  another  one?  It  seems  as  if  I 
hadn't  had  a  smoke  for  a  year." 

"I  '11  get  you  mine,"  said  Tex.    " I  have  quit." 

"Since  when?"  retorted  Ranee.  "You  were 
smoking  yesterday." 

Tex  turned  red  and  stammered.  "Well,  you 
see,  Ruth  reckons  it  isn't  good  for  my  health, 
says  it 's  a  wasteful  habit,  and  she  does  n't  like 
the  smell  of  an  old  pipe.  Maybe  she's  right," 
regarding  Mike  wistfully  as  he  blew  out  clouds 
of  vapor  from  his  dhudeen. 

"Tex,"  said  Ranee  solemnly,  "you  don't  mean 
that  you  are  going  to  lie  down  this  early  in  the 

[219] 


THE       CITY       OF        SIX 

game.  I've  puffed  cigars  under  her  nose  ever 
since  I  brought  her  to  the  camp,  and  she  never 
sniffed  once.  Insist  on  your  privileges  or  you  are 
a  goner.  The  next  thing,  she  will  make  you  put 
on  a  clean  shirt  every  morning,  forbid  you  asso- 
ciating with  Mike  and  me  for  fear  it  will  hurt 
your  morals;  in  fact,  Tex,  she  will  wear  the 
breeches,  and  there  is  an  end  to  your  liberty." 

"Oh,  shut  up,"  retorted  Tex.  "What  do  you 
know  about  women,  anyway?  Smoking  gives  her 
a  headache,  and  you  don't  suppose  I  am  mean 
enough  to  make  her  sick,  but — ,"  here  his  good 
resolutions  melted  in  the  air,  "I  can  smoke  out- 
doors, she  can't  have  any  objection  to  that." 
Then  away  he  went  to  the  cabin,  returning 
quickly  with  two  black  clay  pipes  and  a  slab  of 
blackstrap,  and  shortly  the  incense  of  the  weed 
loaded  the  atmosphere.  Tex  breathed  a  sigh  of 
relief  and  mentally  resolved  that  he  would  make 
a  stand  for  the  continuance  of  the  habit;  Wake- 
field  declared  that  a  whiff  of  tobacco  was  the  one 
thing  needed  to  complete  his  contentment;  Mike 
regarded  them  both  quizzically,  and  Ranee,  who 
had  taken  to  cigars,  flicked  the  ashes  off  the  end 
of  one  and  settled  down  to  posting  Wakefield 
on  the  growth  and  progress  of  The  City  of  Six 

[220] 


HALF-FORMED      PLANS 

during  the  summer,  a  story  to  which  the  Dean 
eagerly  listened. 

"You  don't  know  how  anxious  I  am  to  get 
to  the  old  work  again.  I  have  not  had  a  con- 
tented moment  since  I  turned  my  back  on  it  last 
spring,"  Wakefield  said.  "Maybe  I  'm  muscle- 
bound,  but  I  want  to  grasp  a  pick  once  more; 
you  know  I  did  pretty  good  work  in  Slug 
Canyon." 

"It's  no  pick-handling  you'll  do,"  retorted 
Mike.  "We  're  hiring  men  to  do  the  hard  work; 
there's  ninety  of  'em  living  here  at  prisint.  If 
you're  going  to  stay  here,  you'll  officiate  as  a 
boss  and  help  me  out  wid  me  duties.  I'm  ex- 
pecting to  lose  our  frind  Tex,  who  's  draining 
of  ranches  and  cattle  and  is  going  down  into  the 
cow  counties  to  take  up  with  the  malaria  and 
mosquitoes.  Virgin  goold  don't  seem  to  have  any 
attraction  for  him  at  prisint." 

"Yes,  but  I'm  coming  back,"  replied  Tex; 
"we  are  only  going  for  a  vacation  and  to  make 
an  investment  in  a  business  that  I  like  and  was 
brought  up  to." 

"Yes,  and  you'll  be  needing  another  vacation 
by  the  time  you  Ve  found  it,  and  more  money  to 
put  into  it.  Bafe  is  a  good  thing  to  ate,  and 

[221] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

maybe  it 's  a  good  thing  to  raise ;  but  I  want  none 
of  it,  so  long  as  the  mountains  are  full  of  goold 
to  be  had  for  the  digging.  Anyhow,  the  ould 
man  has  more  sinse  than  to  be  longing  after  the 
delights  of  a  flat  country  with  only  one  tree  to 
the  square  mile,  and  that  a  dwarf." 

"I  like  the  mountains,"  said  Wakefield,  "and 
I  have  made  up  my  mind  to  stay;  that  is — " 
and  he  paused,  sighed,  and  looked  meditatively 
toward  his  house,  "my  wife  don't  seem  to  be 
satisfied.  It's  strange,  for  she  is  a  well  woman 
and  admits  that  the  mountains  have  cured  her. 
She  says  she  is  lonesome,  although  not  for  the  old 
home  back  East.  She  wants  to  get  away  from 
here,  travel  in  foreign  countries;  poor  little 
woman,  I  guess  my  affliction  has  been  a  hard 
trial  for  her  and  given  her  a  distaste  for  the  place. 
However,  it  may  wear  off  now  that  I  seem  to 
be  all  right  again;  and  I  am,  ain't  I,  boys?"  turn- 
ing to  his  comrades  for  a  confirmation  of  his  be- 
lief in  his  recovery. 

They  assured  him  that  he  was,  Ranee  and 
Mike  exchanging  significant  glances  over  his 
wife's  discontent;  and  then  Mike  proposed  that 
Wakefield  should  accompany  him  on  a  trip 
through  the  mine  that  he  might  note  the  develop- 

[222] 


HALF-FORMED      PLANS 

ments  and  realize  the  importance  and  wealth  of 
the  property. 

Ranee  had  no  inclination  to  make  an  under- 
ground exploration  that  day  and  was  content  to 
leave  Wakefield  to  Mike's  care.  The  revelation 
that  had  come  to  him  the  previous  evening  of  the 
state  of  Dot's  feelings  and  incidentally  of  his  own, 
possessed  him  with  joy,  and  the  memory  of  the 
loving  caress  that  seemed  to  be  the  culmination 
and  natural  expression  of  the  girl's  happiness  over 
the  return  of  her  father's  reason  still  thrilled  him 
as  he  recalled  it.  Now  he  knew  that  their  close 
association  during  the  summer,  their  mutual 
guardianship  of  the  father,  their  rambles  under 
the  pines,  and  the  sense  of  keen  enjoyment  from 
their  companionship,  marked  the  budding  of  an 
enduring  affection,  and  he  wondered  that  he  had 
delayed  his  happiness  so  long.  Yet  their  attitude 
had  been  rather  that  of  friendly  comrades  than 
lovers,  two  grown-up  children,  happy  in  what  the 
wood  gods  offered  them  and  content  for  the  time 
with  these  gifts.  The  kiss  which  he  had  given  Dot 
when  she  flung  herself  into  his  arms  had  not  been 
resented,  and  the  giving  and  taking  had  brought 
Ranee  on  the  feet  of  his  understanding.  On 
Mike's  shoulders  had  fallen  the  burden  of  manag- 

[223] 


THE       CITY       OF        SIX 

ing  the  property,  and  although  Ranee  had  been 
informed  and  consulted  he  had  not  interfered. 
Dame  Fortune  had  been  kind,  and  without  effort 
he  was  growing  rich,  was  already  independent  in 
a  modest  way,  and  his  future  was  secure  with  ordi- 
nary care.  He  had  entertained  half-formed  plans 
to  be  carried  out  when  his  inclination  prompted. 
He  could  return  to  the  old  plantation,  to  his  peo- 
ple and  his  birthplace,  and  assume  a  position  to 
which  his  social  standing  entitled  him,  and  that 
without  drawing  on  the  family  resources;  but 
somehow  the  prospect  did  not  appeal  to  him.  His 
horizon  had  broadened,  his  aspirations  did  not 
include  social  distinction.  Like  all  the  rest  who 
came  under  the  climatic  witchery  of  the  foothills, 
the  Sierras  held  him  as  in  a  spell. 

He  had  thought  that  after  he  had  paid  a  duti- 
ful visit  to  the  old  home,  he  might  return,  take  up 
his  residence  at  San  Francisco,  study  law,  go  into 
politics,  or  play  the  dilettante  and  live  on  his  in- 
come; but  there  had  been  no  necessity  for  defi- 
nitely settling  the  question. 

There  had  been  moments  when  his  conscience 
smote  him  for  his  lack  of  ambitious  purpose, 
although  not  sufficiently  to  impel  him  to  more 
vigorous  action.  Now,  however,  there  had  come 
into  his  life  a  new  condition.  Doubting  not  that 

[224] 


HALF  -FORMED      PLANS 

Dot  had  given  herself  to  him,  he  pondered 
seriously  upon  what  the  change  meant.  The  syl- 
van life  had  its  charm,  Nature  beckoned  and  re- 
warded those  who  crept  close  to  her  breast ;  but  as 
"Benedick,  the  married  man,"  there  would  come 
duties  and  responsibilities  that  must  needs  divorce 
him  from  his  paganism. 

These  thoughts  flitted  through  his  mind,  as  he 
sat  on  the  steps  awaiting  Dot's  return  and  rather 
impatient  of  her  delay.  He  did  not  know  of  the 
tumult  in  the  girl's  brain,  the  self-accusation  of 
forwardness,  the  lack  of  maidenly  modesty  with 
which  she  charged  herself  in  her  involuntary  be- 
trayal of  her  feelings.  What  would  he  think  of 
her  literally  throwing  herself  into  his  arms  ?  And 
yet  she  remembered  the  quick  response  and  did 
not  doubt  her  lover.  Oh  no!  she  would  not  seek 
him;  how  could  she  meet  him  in  the  daylight, 
although  the  sun  shone  brighter,  the  birds  sang 
sweeter  —  and  vowing  that  she  would  not,  her  feet 
trod  the  path  that  led  her  to  him.  Hours  to  be 
remembered  forever!  As  they  bent  their  steps 
over  the  old  trail,  what  they  said,  the  vows  they 
pledged,  of  what  consequence?  Happy  pair,  to 
whom  the  present  was  unalloyed  delight,  and  the 
future  promised  no  terrors;  for  their  love  made 
them  unafraid. 

[2«6] 


CHAPTER  XX 

A  GAMBLER  IN  LOVE 

\\T  AKEFIELD'S  interested  examination  of 
the  mine,  his  grasp  of  the  methods  em- 
ployed, and  his  comprehension  of  the  details  and 
improvements  indicated  beyond  doubt  his  com- 
plete restoration  to  sanity.  Under  Mike's  guid- 
ance he  noted  the  well-timbered  tunnel  piercing 
the  mountain  a  distance  of  eight  hundred  feet,  the 
prospecting  drifts,  the  methodical  breasting  out 
of  the  gravel,  the  drilling  and  blasting  that  broke 
up  the  cemented  mass,  the  track  and  cars  that  had 
displaced  the  primitive  wheelbarrow,  the  gang  of 
thirty  men  who  toiled  through  the  eight-hour 
shift  and  then  gave  place  to  an  equal  number. 

"It 's  three  gangs  we  keep  at  it ;  the  work  niver 
stops,  day  nor  night,"  Mike  informed  his  com- 
panion. "Four  dollars  a  day  they  get  and  their 
board,  and  we  have  the  pick  of  miners  for  that 
pay.  It  isn't  like  the  old  days  when  we  rocked 
out  Slug  Canyon  and  turned  up  our  noses  at  any- 
thing less  than  an  ounce  a  day  apiece.  There  are 
a  few  good  claims  left  yit,  but  they  are  mostly 
down  on  the  river  or  in  the  deep  diggings  along 

[226] 


A     GAMBLER     IN      LOVE 

the  ridge.  The  bars  and  the  gulches  are  worked 
out ;  river  mining  is  uncertain ;  and  it  takes  capital 
to  exploit  the  dead  river  channels.  How  much 
d  'ye  think  are  our  daily  expinses  ?  Six  hundred 
dollars,  divil  a  cint  less.  I'll  show  ye  what  the 
yield  is  when  we  wash  up  directly.  It 's  a  f oine 
property,  not  a  better  one  from  Moore's  Flat  to 
La  Porte,  and  there 's  dozens  of  'em  in  those  forty 
miles ;  and  if  the  channel  would  only  keep  straight 
it 's  years  it  would  last,  but  —  spake  low — I  have 
me  doubts.  Did  you  mind  the  bend  in  the  last 
hundred  feet  in  the  tunnel?  If  that  keeps  up, 
we  '11  soon  be  running  along  the  side  of  the  moun- 
tain instid  of  into  it ;  and  that  manes  that  she  will 
ind  up  in  the  canyon  beyond.  At  the  worst,  how- 
ever, we  have  a  thousand  feet,  and  that 's  good  for 
a  year.  Besides,  I  have  taken  up  the  ground  on 
the  other  side  of  the  canyon,  have  four  min  a- 
drifting,  and  it  prospects  pretty  well.  If  she 
jumps,  we  '11  jump  wid  it.  If  ye  have  grasped  the 
lay  of  it  all  and  ye  want  to  study  it,  we  '11  go  out 
and  clane  up  the  sluices.  That 's  the  mainspring 
of  all  of  the  works." 

A  long  line  of  sluice  boxes  had  taken  the  place 
of  the  now  obsolete  "Long  Tom,"  and  Wakefield 
watched  the  process  with  absorbing  interest. 

[227] 


THE       CITY        OF       SIX 

"It 's  only  the  first  four  we  clane  up  each  day, 
the  rist  of  them  we  lave  for  Saturday;  and  mind 
ye,  there 's  a  watchman  here  day  and  night  to  pre- 
vint  somebody  else  from  relieving  us  of  the  job. 
Since  the  Chinamen  have  got  so  thick  around  the 
country,  it's  not  safe  to  lave  yer  sluices  alone; 
they're  born  sluice-robbers  and  there  are  also 
white  men  who  make  an  aisy  living  in  that  kind  of 
work.  There  was  a  China  funeral  in  Chinatown 
three  weeks  ago,  and  our  watchman  furnished  the 
corpse;  and  there's  a  sport  limping  around 
Downieville  at  the  prisint  time  by  raison  of  a  few 
buckshot  that  he  gathered  one  dark  night  retrat- 
ing  down  Slug  Canyon.  Gold  is  mighty  timpting 
and  it 's  close  chances  they  '11  take  to  pick  up  a  few 
hundred  dollars.  And  that  ain't  all,  ould  man. 
Niver  a  day  passes  that  we  don't  lose  more  or  less 
out  of  the  mine.  Ye  can't  stop  it.  The  gold  is 
coarse,  a  three  or  four-dollar  nugget  is  aisy 
stowed  away ;  ye  can't  search  'em  and  ye  're  not 
surprised  when  ye  hear  of  one  of  yer  men  selling  a 
lot  of  dust  over  in  Forest  City  or  elsewhere  that 
ye  know  came  out  of  yer  own  property.  The 
rogues  and  thaves  one  has  to  contind  with  laves 
ye  to  belave  that  there  is  little  honesty  in  this 


[228] 


A      GAMBLER      IN      LOVE 

wicked  worrld,"  and  Mike  sighed  as  he  hinted  at 
the  dishonesty  of  his  fellow-men. 

Removing  the  riffles  one  by  one,  and  carefully 
washing  the  gravel  down  to  the  end  of  the  fourth 
box,  the  water  was  turned  off  and  the  few  pans  of 
dirt  to  which  it  was  reduced  removed  for  the  last 
process,  the  panning  out.  Wakefield  noted  the 
glittering  particles  sifted  through  the  dirt  and 
black  sand,  the  numerous  small  nuggets  which 
Mike  picked  up  and  put  to  one  side,  and  the  finer 
gold,  the  size  of  grains  of  wheat,  which  were 
finally  separated  from  the  gravel.  There  was  a 
goodly  amount ;  Mike  guessed  it  at  fourteen  hun- 
dred dollars,  and  he  added : 

"  That 's  what  comes  out  of  the  mine  every  day 
in  the  week,  except  Saturday,  when  we  wash  up 
the  whole  string  and  get  about  a  thousand  dollars 
more.  That 's  the  fine  gold  that 's  carried  by  the 
upper  riffles  and  gets  caught  by  the  quicksilver  in 
the  lower  boxes.  Well,  ould  man,  are  ye  going 
to  stay  wid  me  this  winter  ?  I  '11  not  lave  it  mesilf 
so  long  as  it  pays,  but  it  takes  an  aigle  eye  and  a 
lot  of  attintion  to  kape  it  running  properly.  We 
got  along  all  right  till  Tex  lost  his  head  and  his 
heart  to  the  widdy ;  and  now  nothing  will  do  him 


[229] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

but  he  must  prance  away  to  the  lowlands.  Ranee 
is  a  f oine  bye,  but  a  poor  boss,  and  he 's  got  above 
it  since  he  threw  up  cooking  and  went  to  meander- 
ing around  the  woods  with  the  birds  and  others  — 
of  which  I  'm  thinking  ye  '11  know  more  later  — 
rather  than  be  doing  honest  worrk  that  would  aise 
up  on  his  pard." 

To  which  Wakefield  responded  that  it  was  both 
his  inclination  and  intention  to  remain  at  the  mine 
although  he  could  not  decide  at  the  moment. 

"The  fact  is,  Mike,"  he  said,  "my  wife  seems 
to  be  discontented,  and  intimates  that  she  does  not 
want  to  live  in  The  City  of  Six  through  the  dreary 
winter.  From  what  she  tells  me,  I  must  have 
been  a  trial  to  her  since  she  has  been  here.  Out  of 
my  head  and  she  ill,  it 's  got  her  into  a  nervous 
state  and  she  fears  that  I  will  have  a  relapse.  It 's 
a  strange  thing,  Mike,  this  blank  that  came  into 
my  life  and  it  frightens  me  when  I  think  of  it. 
Oh,  well!  it's  gone;  God  grant  it  won't  come 
back." 

"It  will  not,"  said  Mike  stoutly.  "Take  me 
advice  and  let  books  alone ;  there  's  little  good  in 
'em,  and  this  fellow  Shakespeare  with  whom 
you  Ve  been  colloguing  for  the  while  past,  is  mis- 
leading. Belike,  ye  don't  remimber  miscalling  me 

[230] 


A      GAMBLER     IN      LOVE 

Michael  Cassio,  and  me  a  born  Donovan.  Help 
me  with  the  mine,  put  yer  mind  on  yer  property, 
and  ye '11  have  nather  time  nor  inclination  for 
aught  else.  Go  aisy  for  a  week  or  two  until  ye  get 
the  hang  of  things.  What  with  the  worry  and  sor- 
row, it 's  natural  yer  wife  should  be  low-spirited. 
Take  me  advice,  ould  man :  there  are  good  saddle 
horses  in  the  camp — have  a  jaunt  with  her  over 
the  ridge.  There 's  a  lot  doing,  and  there 's  towns 
now  where  there  were  only  cabins  before  you 
wint  away,  and  there's  mining  being  done  that 
will  surprise  ye.  Make  a  week  of  it ;  and  if  Miss 
Dot  goes  along,  maybe  you  can  persuade  Ranee 
to  go  wid  ye."  Mike's  eyes  twinkled  as  he  made 
this  last  suggestion.  "A  nice  fellow  is  that  same 
Ranee,  and  I  'm  of  the  opinion  that  yer  daughter 
has  the  same  way  of  thinking." 

"What  do  you  mean,  Mike?"  asked  Wakefield, 
startled  by  Mike's  implied  hint. 

"I  mane  nothing  and  I  know  nothing  except 
that  if  I  had  a  daughter  it's  mighty  proud  I 
would  be  to  have  Ranee  as  a  son-in-law ;  and  I  'm 
no  prophet  if  you  don't  have  the  chance." 

"Why,  she  is  only  a  child,  Mike,"  retorted 
Wakefield,  knitting  his  brows  over  the  implica- 
tion, but  not  at  all  displeased  with  the  prospect. 

[231] 


THE        CITY       OF       SIX 

He  had  an  abiding  affection  for  his  young  part- 
ner, and  would  be  more  than  satisfied  if  Mike's 
prediction  should  come  to  pass;  but  he  had  not 
realized  that  his  daughter  had  grown  into  woman- 
hood, nor  did  he  know  that  during  his  blank  days 
he  had  been  the  excuse  for  the  intimacy  that  had 
ripened  into  love. 

"  Child,  is  it  ? "  laughed  Mike.  "  No  doubt  you 
think  she 's  still  a  baby,  that  f oine  slip  of  a  gurl 
that  do  be  a  woman.  But  I  'm  thrusting  me  nose 
in  what  is  none  of  me  business,  and  Ranee  will  not 
be  thanking  me  for  me  impident  interference. 
You  need  n't  be  telling  him  what  I  Ve  said,  or  the 
bye  will  damn  me  for  a  blundering  Irishman 
putting  in  me  fist  where  there  is  no  occasion." 

Wakefield  promised,  and  also  agreed  to  take 
into  consideration  the  suggested  trip  to  the  adja- 
cent camps. 

"  I  can't  go  wid  ye  mesilf ,"  explained  Mike,  "  as 
I  must  n't  lave  the  mine  alone  that  lingth  of  time ; 
but  there 's  yersilf  and  the  mistress,  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Potter  (a  slice  of  the  honeymoon  for  thim) ,  Miss 
Dot  and  Ranee  of  course,  and  maybe  Black 
Brant.  That  would  be  a  nice  party  and  only  one 
odd  one  in  it." 

"Black  Brant,  who  is  he?"  asked  Wakefield. 

[232] 


A     GAMBLER      IN      LOVE 

"Who  is  he?"  echoed  Mike.  "He's  lago,  the 
villain  ye  Ve  been  a-scowling  at  and  refusing  to 
spake  to  for  no  ind  of  time.  He's  a  reformed 
sport,  a  convarted  faro  daler  that 's  took  up  wid 
mining  for  raisons.  He's  no  frind  of  mine,  al- 
though I  Ve  trated  him  dacently  and  given  him 
the  benefit  of  me  advice  in  his  new  game.  He 
was  at  the  wedding,  but  I  have  n't  seen  him  since. 
It 's  the  dog  Jack  that 's  responsible  for  him,  al- 
though the  dog  is  no  frind  of  his  aither.  Ranee 
will  tell  you  the  story.  There  comes  your  daugh- 
ter a-flying  down  the  hill,  and  I  '11  be  scolded 
for  monopolizing  your  company." 

Dot  announced  that  dinner  was  waiting,  and  as 
Mike  predicted,  upbraided  him  for  spending  the 
long  forenoon  in  the  mine. 

"Mr.  Poole  arid  I  have  been  waiting  for  you  for 
hours,"  she  said,  "and  even  Tex  and  Ruth  have 
forgotten  their  own  affairs  long  enough  to  ask 
where  you  are." 

"Mr.  Poole,  is  it?  How  polite  we  're  getting! 
And  who  is  Mr.  Poole?"  sarcastically  inquired 
Mike.  "You'll  be  calling  me  Mr.  Donovan 
nixt." 

"Oh  no,  I  will  not.  You  are  the  boss  —  even 
Mrs.  Ruth  admits  that,  and"  —  making  a  mock 

[233] 


THE       CITY       OF        SIX 

courtesy,  "we  will  call  you  the  manager.  Come 
along!  It's  a  glorious  day  and  I'm  gloriously 
hungry,"  and  taking  her  father's  hand,  she  led  the 
way  up  the  trail  to  the  boarding-house,  where  the 
others  were  waiting.  Mrs.  Wakefield  was  among 
them  and  met  her  husband,  but  it  was  a  shy  and 
awkward  greeting  on  both  sides.  He  was  not 
demonstrative,  nor  she  affectionate.  Perhaps 
their  long  years  of  married  life  had  dulled  their 
emotions,  although  to  the  lookers-on  it  did  seem 
that  the  wife  was  singularly  unmoved  by  the 
change  in  her  husband's  mental  condition. 

The  afternoon  was  passed  in  mutual  consulta- 
tion as  to  the  future.  Tex  and  his  bride  were 
determined  on  a  visit  to  the  plains;  and  Mrs. 
Wakefield  intimated  that  she  desired  a  change  of 
scene  if  her  husband's  interests  permitted,  and 
appealed  to  Dot  to  add  her  persuasion  to  that 
end. 

"If  your  father  prefers  the  mountains,"  she 
suggested,  "we  can  pass  the  winter  in  San  Fran- 
cisco and  return  in  the  spring.  This  barbarous 
place  is  unbearable." 

Wakefield,  at  this  hint  of  a  separation,  looked 
at  her  with  surprise,  but  made  no  reply ;  at  a  sign 


[234] 


A     GAMBLER      IN      LOVE 

from  Ranee  he  followed  him  up  the  path  to  the 
spring,  where  they  sat  down  together. 

"Wakefield,"  began  Ranee,  with  a  little  em- 
barrassment, "I  have  a  great  favor  to  ask  of  you, 
and  I  trust  you  will  see  your  way  to  grant  it. 
The  fact  is,"  he  blurted  out,  "I  want  Dot  for  my 
own ;  I  think  she  is  willing.  Can  you  give  her  to 
me?" 

Wakefield  looked  into  Ranee's  honest  eyes, 
and  his  own  dimmed. 

"I'm  sure  it  never  entered  my  mind,"  he 
huskily  replied.  "I  haven't  had  much  mind  of 
late  until  the  past  twenty-four  hours,  but  I  know 
that  you  would  be  my  choice  above  all  men.  It 's 
another  blessing  I  have  to  thank  God  for,"  and 
the  strong  man  wrung  Ranee's  hand  with  an 
unwonted  emotion.  Then  he  asked  Ranee  for  a 
rehearsal  of  all  that  had  happened  since  his  mind 
failed  him ;  and  his  friend  gave  him  a  full  account, 
including  the  loving  care  and  devoted  attention 
of  Dot. 

"And  my  wife?"  queried  Wakefield.  "She 
also  has  cared  for  me?" 

"Oh,  of  course,"  replied  Ranee,  "but  you  must 
remember  that  she  was  a  sick  woman  when  she 


[235] 


THE       CITY       OF        SIX 

arrived  and  has  hardly  had  the  strength  to  play 
the  attendant,  knowing  it  was  not  necessary  as 
you  were  in  good  hands." 

"Maybe  it's  because  I  am  gathering  my  wits 
slowly,"  responded  Wakefield,  "but  I  am  op- 
pressed with  the  feeling  that  something  —  my 
mental  condition  possibly  —  has  put  up  some  sort 
of  a  barrier  between  us.  Not  that  I  have  any 
tangible  cause  for  the  belief,  but  I  cannot  escape 
the  thought  that  there  is  an  estrangement,  a 
coldness  for  which  I  cannot  account.  I  have 
been  a  trial  —  that  is  a  fact." 

Ranee  pooh-poohed  the  suggestion,  insisting 
that  his  friend  was  a  little  morbid  and  that  mat- 
ters would  right  themselves  in  the  near  future. 
"If  there  is  any  foundation  for  it,  the  cause  has 
been  our  own  selfishness,"  he  explained.  "She 
has  been  too  much  alone.  Dot  and  I  have  de- 
voted our  waking  hours  to  you,  Ruth  has  been 
busy  about  her  own  affairs,  and  the  rest  of  those 
with  whom  she  could  associate  were  looking  after 
the  mine  and  its  workings.  Naturally,  being  ill 
and  out  of  sorts,  she  has  keenly  felt  our  apparent 
neglect  and  doubtless  silently  resented  it." 

"  It  may  be,"  responded  Wakefield.  "  She  burst 
into  tears  last  night  and  told  me  that  she  had  had 

[336] 


A     GAMBLER      IN      LOVE 

but  one  friend  in  the  camp,  and  that  was  a  person 
that  I  had  never  heard  of  before.  Who  is  this 
Phillips  to  whom  she  seems  to  owe  such  a  debt 
of  gratitude?  According  to  Mike,  he  is  not  the 
sort  of  a  man  that  one  would  choose  for  a  family 
friend." 

With  some  confusion  and  inward  upbraiding, 
Ranee  related  to  his  comrade  the  circumstances 
that  had  brought  about  their  meeting  and  his 
subsequent  introduction  to  the  camp. 

"He  is  a  gentleman,"  he  insisted,  "a  reformed 
gambler,  if  you  please,  but  of  good  birth  and 
breeding.  He  abandoned  his  profession  from 
sheer  disgust  and  under  my  own  and  Mike's 
advice  took  up  mining.  His  property  is  just 
across  the  ridge,  and  at  my  invitation  he  made 
The  City  of  Six  his  abiding-place.  The  truth 
is,"  remorsefully  continued  Ranee,  "he  must 
have  found  it  pretty  dull  here  of  late.  You 
were  such  pleasant  company  that  I  neglected 
him,  and  he  has  been  left  to  his  own  resources. 
When  I  come  to  think  of  it,  your  wife  and  he, 
ignored  by  the  rest  of  us,  have  established  a 
friendship,  and  that  probably  accounts  for  her 
reference  to  him  as  her  only  friend.  Give  her 
time,  old  man,  and  don't  go  around  pulling  a 

[237] 


THE        CITY        OF       SIX 

long  face.  Cheer  up,  and  take  my  word  for  it 
there  is  no  one  in  this  round  world  who  rejoices 
in  your  recovery  more  than  she." 

"Well,  she  takes  a  queer  way  of  showing  it," 
grumbled  Wakefield.  "Don't  think  I'm  jeal- 
ous—  that  would  be  ridiculous;  but  where  is  the 
fellow,  anyway?  Has  he  run  away  because  I 
have  got  my  senses?" 

Ranee  explained  that  Phillips  had  been  at  the 
wedding  and  was  present  when  Dot  brought  the 
tidings  of  her  father's  sanity.  He  probably  felt 
that  he  would  be  out  of  place  at  the  family  re- 
union, and  had  saddled  his  horse  and  gone  over 
to  Hepsidam  or  an  adjacent  camp. 

"Don't  bother,  he  will  turn  up  when  he  judges 
that  things  have  settled  down  to  the  old  basis." 

"•Why  should  I  bother?"  retorted  Wakefield. 
"I'm  sure  I  have  no  interest  in  the  man  or  in- 
clination to  meet  him,  except  a  curiosity  to  know 
the  person  whom  my  wife  proclaims  as  her  only 
friend.  And  by  the  way,  Mike  suggests  that  we 
all  take  a  vacation  and  ride  over  to  the  towns 
on  the  Middle  Fork.  He  tells  me  that  they  have 
grown  into  big  camps  since  I  saw  them,  and  I 
would  like  to  get  a  glimpse  at  them.  I  intend, 
as  soon  as  I  get  my  bearings,  to  get  back  into 

[238] 


A     GAMBLER      IN      LOVE 

harness.  Mike  insists  that  he  needs  me,  and  it 
will  be  pleasant  to  take  up  the  old  work  again. 
If  the  wife  wants  city  life  or  travel,  I  will  con- 
sent, but  without  me.  There  is  too  much  at  stake 
here,  what  with  Tex  going  off  on  his  honey- 
moon, for  us  to  leave  the  burden  wholly  on 
Mike's  shoulders.  Besides,  it  is  my  duty.  I've 
had  my  share  for  a  time  without  contributing 
my  help,  and  I  will  stay  with  it  until  I  make  up 
for  my  idleness." 

Ranee  suggested  that  there  was  no  immediate 
necessity  for  a  decision  and  heartily  agreed  to 
the  proposed  visit  to  the  neighboring  towns. 

"We  can  take  the  ladies  along;  there  are  good 
hotels  at  Forest  City  and  Moore's  Flat,  and  we 
will  get  together  and  talk  it  over  this  evening. 
And  then,"  added  Ranee,  "I  am  of  the  opinion 
that  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Poole  to  be  —  doesn't  that 
sound  well? — will  have  a  taste  of  civilization. 
I  want  to  take  Dot  back  to  my  old  home  and 
present  her  to  my  own  people,  and  if  mother-in- 
law —  do  you  think  she  will  like  the  title? — 
will  favor  us  with  her  company,  what  could  be 
better  planned  than  such  a  journey?  You  will 
stay  and  pile  up  wealth  while  we  are  having  a 
jolly  trip.  That  is  the  solution  of  it  all,  de- 

[239] 


THE       CITY       OF        SIX 

pending,  of  course,  as  to  whether  she  will  accept 
me  as  a  son-in-law.  Dot  is  to  break  the  news 
to  her  and  get  her  consent." 

Wakefield  cheered  up  visibly  and  agreed  that 
Ranee's  plan  was  a  good  one,  although  not  relish- 
ing the  prospective  separation  from  his  wife,  and 
they  started  to  walk  back  to  camp. 

"By  Jove,  there  she  is  now!"  cried  Ranee. 
"What  is  she  doing  up  on  the  ridge  trail?" 
pointing  to  Mrs.  Wakefield,  who  had  just 
emerged  from  the  chaparral  where  the  path 
wound  down  the  crest,  and  was  slowly  returning 
to  camp.  They  waited  for  her  at  the  foot  of 
the  hill,  where  she  joined  them  and  walked  in 
their  company  to  the  house.  She  was  silent, 
abstracted,  and  responded  to  their  talk  in  mono- 
syllables; and  they  failed  to  note,  as  she  shaded 
her  eyes  from  the  rays  of  the  declining  sun,  that 
they  were  tear-stained  and  swollen,  traces  which 
she  removed  with  cold  water  as  soon  as  she  en- 
tered the  house. 

"  I  wonder  if  Dot  has  told  her,"  puzzled  Ranee. 
"What  the  mischief  has  got  into  the  woman? 
She's  a  wet  blanket  on  us  all."  Then  Mike 
beckoned  him  to  one  side. 

"Ranee,    there    is    trouble  ahead,  unless  we 

[240] 


A     GAMBLER      IN      LOVE 

interfere.  Baldy  Brown  came  over  the  trail 
from  Kanaka  Creek  this  afternoon  and  told  me 
he  met  the  old  man's  wife  and  Black  Brant, 
sitting  out  under  the  rock  on  top  of  the  hill, 
he  wid  his  arm  around  her  waist,  and  she  a-cry- 
ing  and  wringing  her  hands.  I  have  my 
suspicions  that  he  is  coaxing  her  to  her  own 
divilment,  the  dirty  hound." 

Ranee's  hot  blood  boiled  as  he  comprehended 
the  situation. 

"By  God!  I'll  kill  him  like  a  dog  if  he 
means  her  harm,  the  infernal  scoundrel!  And 
I  will  follow  him  to  hell  to  do  it!" 

"Be  quiet,  me  son,  be  cool  and  don't  be  doing 
anything  rash.  I  Ve  told  Baldy  to  kape  his  teeth 
shut  and  his  tongue  inside.  We  will  have  no 
scandal  until  there  is  a  good  reason  for  it. 
You  '11  not  interfere, —  I  have  me  way  of  taking 
care  of  the  baste  widout  you're  mixing  in  it." 

It  was  with  difficulty  that  Ranee  controlled 
himself,  especially  when  he  considered  his  new 
relation  to  the  family.  It  came  to  him  that 
Brant  Phillips,  infatuated  with  the  woman,  had 
taken  advantage  of  Wakefield's  affliction  to 
estrange  her  from  her  husband.  Wakefield's 
recovery  had  disconcerted  his  plans,  and  he  was 

[241] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

no  doubt  using  all  his  persuasive  powers  to  sep- 
arate the  pair.  This  accounted  for  the  wife's 
embarrassment  and  her  attitude  toward  her  hus- 
band, and  for  Phillips's  avoidance  of  the  place 
since  the  night  previous.  Mike's  informant,  who 
had  not  been  observed,  had  noted  that  Phillips 
remounted  his  horse  and  rode  away  in  the  oppo- 
site direction.  With  turmoil  in  his  mind,  Ranee 
managed  to  command  his  feelings,  although 
mentally  vowing  the  direst  vengeance. 

There  was  a  gathering  in  the  boarding-house 
that  evening,  and  Wakefield,  acting  on  Mike's 
suggestion,  proposed  the  little  journey  along  the 
ridge.  To  their  surprise,  Mrs.  Wakefield  gave 
an  eager  acceptance.  She  had  recovered  her 
spirits  and,  notwithstanding  appearances,  Ranee 
was  almost  persuaded  that  his  suspicions  were 
unfounded.  Later,  when  she  quietly  told  him  that 
Dot  had  pleaded  his  cause  and  that  she  was  only 
too  happy  to  give  her  consent,  he  felt  ashamed 
that  he  should  have  so  misjudged  her,  and  was 
almost  convinced  that  it  was  all  a  mistake.  Any- 
way, he  would  be  prudent  and  not  precipitate 
trouble  by  acting  on  what  after  all  might  be 
false  conclusions.  He  blamed  himself  for  the 
situation.  He  had  been  so  absorbed  in  the  daugh- 

[242] 


A     GAMBLER      IN      LOVE 

ter  that  he  had  forgotten  the  mother.  Now  he 
could  see  how  lonely  she  must  have  been;  her 
protector  alienated,  the  daughter,  who  had  been 
her  confidante  and  constant  companion,  transfer- 
ring her  attentions  to  her  father;  naturally  she 
had  craved  sympathy  and  without  any  thought 
of  wrongdoing  had  accepted  it  when  proffered. 
But,  and  Ranee  gritted  his  teeth,  there  was  no 
excuse  for  the  man  who  had  taken  advantage 
of  the  hospitality  of  the  camp,  to  play  so  base 
a  role;  no,  he  would  be  held  to  a  strict  account. 
With  vengeful  thoughts  he  sought  Mike  at  the 
office  and  unfolded  to  him  his  determination  of  at 
once  seeking  out  Brant  and  inflicting  summary 
punishment. 

"You'll  do  nothing  of  the  kind,"  Mike  em- 
phatically declared.  "  I  'm  convinced  that  there 
is  no  harm  done  although  there  is  no  telling 
what  might  have  happened  if  the  ould  man  had 
stayed  off  his  head  much  longer.  This  man 
Phillips  was  an  idle  man  and  she  an  idle  woman, 
and  ye  know  the  proverb  about  the  divil  finding 
worrk  for  that  sort.  I  know  ye,  Ranee.  Ye  're 
that  hot-blooded  that  nothing  will  satisfy  ye  but 
to  wipe  him  off  the  face  of  the  earth.  Ye  can't 
assassinate  him.  Ye  're  sure  to  quarrel,  and  thin, 

]243] 


THE       CITY       OF       SIX 

don't  forget,  he's  quick  on  the  trigger;  and 
where  will  it  ind?  Ye  need  n't  flash  up,  av  coorse 
ye  're  not  as  cool  as  the  sport ;  and,  me  bye,"  — 
here  Mike  threw  his  arm  around  Ranee's  neck, 
"we  all  love  ye.  Even  Mrs.  Ruth  is  as  fond  of 
ye  as  a  dacent  married  woman  can  be  and  ye 
do  be  wanting  to  make  Miss  Dot  a  widdy  before 
she  is  a  wife.  Lave  it  to  me.  I  '11  ride  over  to 
Hepsidam  in  the  morning,  have  a  quiet  talk  with 
the  gintleman,  and  I  'm  of  the  belafe  that  he  '11 
trouble  none  of  us  any  more." 

By  dint  of  Mike's  persuasive  eloquence,  Ranee 
allowed  himself  to  be  persuaded,  it  being  under- 
stood that  he  was  not  to  seek  a  quarrel  unless 
Mike's  mission  failed. 

"Take  no  care  of  me,"  enjoined  the  warm- 
hearted Irishman.  "The  worrds  I  will  use  will 
be  convincing,  but  he'll  take  no  offince.  How 
can  he,  when  I  explain  to  him  that  his  prisence 
in  The  City  of  Six  is  regarded  as  no  longer  neces- 
sary on  account  of  a  prejudice  the  dog  Jack  and 
the  cook  have  against  him?  He'll  take  the  hint 
without  a  kick,  and  that  will  be  the  ind  of  the 
trouble." 

Mike  carried  out  his  programme  and  must 
have  acted  diplomatically,  as  he  reported  to 

[244] 


A     GAMBLER      IN      LOVE 

Ranee  the  next  morning  that  it  had  all  been 
satisfactorily  settled. 

"I  said  to  him  that  the  ould  man,  having 
come  out  of  his  trance,  would  naturally  object 
to  any  intrusion,  and  that  the  wife  was  so  happy 
over  it  that  she  wouldn't  have  time  to  entertain 
any  one  not  connected  intimately  with  the  family. 
You  should  have  seen  the  black  look  he  gave 
me  when  I  said  it,  but  the  scoundrel  was  that 
cool  about  it  that  he  tould  me  he  had  made  up 
his  mind  to  the  same  and  that  he  was  going  to 
sell  out  if  he  could,  lave  the  mountains  and  per- 
haps the  State.  It  was  thin,  Ranee,  that  I  did 
a  stroke  of  business  wid  him,  for  I  agreed  to 
buy  the  Hepsidam  property  for  the  money  he 
has  put  into  it ;  and  I  'm  sure  I  Ve  got  a  bargain, 
which  you  can  all  share  in  if  so  minded.  Now 
take  me  tip,  coort  the  mother  as  well  as  the 
daughter.  Grateful  she  will  be  for  your  attin- 
tions  and  proud  that  ye  are  coming  into  the 
family.  Another  thing,  me  bye.  I  hear  they  are 
going  to  have  races  over  at  Moore's  Flat  next 
week, —  a  lively  camp  is  that  same  Moore's  Flat. 
Sure,  there  will  be  a  lot  of  fun  and  divilment,  for 
money  is  plenty  on  the  ridge,  and  the  byes  are 
anxious  to  scatter  it.  Fix  up  your  party,  and 

1*45] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

I'll  send  a  message  over  to  a  frind  of  mine  I 
have  there  to  engage  rooms  for  ye  all  at  the  hotel. 
It's  the  same  frind,  Lon  Hanchett,  I  want  you 
to  know.  He's  the  boss  miner  of  the  camp,  a 
big-hearted  young  feller,  barely  of  age  and  yet 
the  owner  of  the  two  richest  mines  on  the  Flat." 

Ranee  was  pleased  to  hear  of  Mike's  success 
in  his  mission  and,  although  still  resentful  over 
Phillips's  actions,  was  glad  to  get  rid  of  him  so 
easily,  never  doubting  that  this  would  be  the  end 
of  the  trouble. 

The  excursion  was  duly  debated  and  decided 
upon.  Ruth  hesitated  at  first, —  she  was  fearful 
of  the  effect  it  might  have  on  the  morals  of  her 
husband. 

"He's  one  of  the  best  men,  Ranee,"  she  de- 
clared, "but  he  never  had  any  early  training, 
and  he  has  grown  up  that  wild  that  I  'm  afraid 
he  will  never  steady  down  into  a  peaceful  man." 

Ranee  laughed  as  he  bethought  himself  of  the 
pipe  episode,  and  then  took  occasion  to  give  her 
a  little  advice. 

"Don't  get  angry,  Ruth,  but  take  my  word 
for  it,  too  much  molly-coddling  will  spoil  the 
best  of  us.  Tex  has  run  free  all  his  life  and  it 
has  not  hurt  him  any.  He  loves  you  and  he 

[246] 


A      GAMBLER      IN      LOVE 

thinks  you  are  perfection.  He  has  formed  his 
habits,  and  you  can't  teach  an  old  dog  new 
tricks  —  pardon  me  for  the  comparison.  Don't 
put  the  curb  on  him  too  tight.  You've  cut  off 
his  smoking,  and  he's  trying  to  quit  to  please 
you.  Bye  and  bye  he  '11  sneak  off  into  the  mine 
or  somewhere  else,  fill  his  pipe  and  smoke,  and 
while  he's  doing  it  will  feel  aggrieved  that  you 
have  deprived  him  of  the  comfort.  He  hates 
starched  shirts,  although  he  will  wear  them  be- 
cause you  want  him  to  and  they  will  be  a  yoke. 
Even  I,  who  was  born  to  them,  despise  them. 
Drive  him  with  a  loose  rein,  and  you  can  guide 
him  in  any  road  you  please." 

Ruth  bridled  a  bit  at  what  struck  her  as  pre- 
sumptuous, and  then  perhaps  a  vision  of  the 
past  came  to  her.  Her  first  husband  she  had 
thought  a  manly  fellow  when  they  were  married ; 
there  had  been  few  quarrels;  he  had  just  seemed 
to  lose  spirit  and  had  turned  weak  and  shiftless. 
He  had  basely  wronged  her,  as  she  passionately 
declared,  without  cause  or  provocation.  Had 
she  pursued  the  right  system?  With  all  her 
masterfulness,  Ruth  was  a  sensible  woman  and 
capable  of  learning  a  lesson. 

"Much  you  know  about  marriage,"  she  re- 

[247] 


THE        CITY       OF       SIX 

torted.  "Why,  your  wife,  —  if  you  ever  get 
one, — will  twist  you  around  her  little  finger; 
but  I  'm  obliged  for  the  counsel." 

She  departed  to  find  Tex  and  note  whether 
her  discipline  had  had  any  bad  effects.  Ranee 
laughed  heartily  and  later  called  Mike's  attention 
to  Tex  who  after  dinner  sprawled  on  the  porch 
emitting  clouds  of  smoke  from  his  pipe,  and  Ruth 
close  by  his  side,  betraying  no  annoyance. 

"Hivins,  Ranee,  would  ye  belave  it?  And  she 
not  telling  him  what  a  filthy  habit  it  is!  By 
this  and  that  I  see  Tex  has  a  happy  life  forninst 
him." 


f248] 


CHAPTER  XXI 

SPORTSMEN   AND   SPORTING 

T  T  was  quite  an  imposing  cavalcade  that  left 
The  City  of  Six  on  Sunday  morning.  Moore's 
Flat,  its  destination,  was  some  fifteen  miles  to 
the  south,  half-way  up  the  mountain-side  from 
the  Middle  Fork  of  the  Yuba  River.  It,  with 
its  companion  camps,  Woolsey's  and  Orleans 
Flat,  had  become  famous  for  the  richness  and 
extent  of  the  gold  deposits.  The  channel  of  the 
ancient  river,  the  same  that  had  been  discovered 
at  The  City  of  Six,  had  been  found  here  with  like 
characteristics;  in  fact,  it  had  been  traced  and 
was  in  this  Fall  of  1853  being  worked  in  sections 
from  La  Porte  on  the  north  to  You  Bet  and  Red 
Dog  in  Nevada  County  on  the  south,  a  distance 
of  over  sixty  miles ;  and  before  it  was  exhausted, 
gold  to  the  value  of  over  two  hundred  million 
dollars  was  taken  out  of  the  stream. 

The  members  of  the  party  were  in  the  best  of 
spirits;  even  Mrs.  Wakefield  seemed  to  have 
thrown  off  the  depression  and  rallied  to  Ranee's 
gay  sallies,  he  having  devoted  himself  to  her 

[249] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

especial  entertainment.  Tex,  who  was  a  superb 
horseman,  had  picked  up  a  magnificent  half- 
breed  animal,  with  enough  mustang  blood  to  give 
him  the  spirit  and  wildness  characteristic  of  the 
Spanish-bred  horse.  It  was  a  trial  to  Ruth's 
nerves  when,  Tex  having  mounted,  the  animal 
bucked  and  plunged  madly  to  unseat  him,  but 
she  was  proud  of  his  skill  and  horsemanship  in 
soon  subduing  his  steed  to  comparative  tameness. 

Ranee  had  purchased  from  an  immigrant  party 
an  animal  bred  in  Missouri,  a  fine,  clean-limbed, 
broad-chested,  powerful  bay,  for  which  he  had 
paid  a  goodly  price.  He  had  never  regretted  his 
investment,  however,  as  it  was  an  ideal  saddle 
animal  and  under  the  care  and  kind  treatment 
of  its  owner  had  become  a  companion  pet  to  the 
dog  Jack,  and  the  pair  were  almost  inseparable. 

Riding  was  rather  awkward  for  the  ladies,  as 
side  saddles  were  unprocurable,  but  improvised 
pack  saddles  were  made  to  do  duty,  and  as  the 
women  were  mounted  on  quiet  animals  they  soon 
became  accustomed  to  them. 

A  halt  was  made  at  the  old  Mexican  roadside 
house,  near  which  Ranee  had  had  his  adventure 
with  Joaquin  Murieta's  band,  where  they  found 
the  innkeeper  desolate  and  alone.  The  prop  and 

[250] 


SPORTSMEN  AND    SPORTING 

stay  of  his  inn  were  gone.  "Las  muchachas  fueron 
muy  ingratas"  his  daughters  had  left  him, 
formed  misalliances,  from  his  point  of  view,  with 
hated  Americanos.,  and  the  attraction  of  his  way- 
side resort  had  vanished. 

A  ride  up  Kanaka  Creek,  which  in  '49  had 
been  one  of  the  most  prolific  in  its  gold-dust 
output,  showed  a  sad  change  from  the  days 
when  the  banks  were  lined  with  log  cabins  and 
the  pioneers  with  the  rocker  and  "torn"  made 
music  in  its  bed.  There  was  as  much  activity, 
as  many  workers,  but  of  another  race.  The 
Chinaman  was  gleaning  the  old  workings,  and 
the  creek  had  degenerated  into  "  China  diggings." 

A  halt  was  made  at  Alleghany  Town  for  din- 
ner, and  then  the  party  plunged  into  the  canyon 
of  the  Middle  Fork,  a  descent  of  three  thousand 
feet  from  the  crest  to  the  river  and  an  equal 
climb  on  the  south  side.  The  trail  wound  in  and 
around  the  curves  and  bends  of  Bloody  Run,  a 
wide  ravine  that  headed  at  the  flat  and  had  but 
recently  received  its  gruesome  christening.  It 
was  a  toll  trail;  and  the  keeper,  a  jolly  Irishman, 
after  mulcting  each  of  the  party  a  dollar  for  the 
privilege  of  riding  over  it,  told  the  story  of  its 
naming,  a  tale  embracing  both  the  tragic  and 

[251] 


THE       CITY        OF       SIX 

the  comic.  Some  enterprising  Moore's  Flat  cap- 
italists had  constructed  it  at  the  cost  of  several 
thousand  dollars,  as  a  communication  between 
the  Flat  and  Minnesota,  a  mining  camp  on  the 
ridge  north  of  the  river;  but  it  proved  a  poor 
investment,  the  travel  being  limited  and  un- 
profitable. In  order  to  stimulate  it,  the  owners  hit 
upon  a  scheme  of  introducing  a  "hurdy  house" 
at  Moore's  Flat,  an  institution  that  flourished 
and  prospered  in  the  early  days.  It  was  the 
forerunner  of  the  dance-house  of  modern  times. 
Buxom  Dutch  girls  were  brought  up  from  San 
Francisco  and  furnished  saltatory  amusement 
for  the  miners,  who  bought  the  privilege  of  a 
dance  with  these  tireless  Terpsichoreans  at  four 
bits  per  waltz, —  the  price  of  two  drinks  at  the 
bar.  Females  were  scarce  in  the  mines  in  those 
days,  and  the  "hurdies"  were  well  patronized  by 
miners  longing  for  companionship  of  the  sex  and 
willing  to  pay  the  price.  It  was  noted  that  on 
Saturday  nights  and  Sundays,  the  Minnesotans 
from  the  opposite  ridge  came  over  in  force  to 
Moore's  Flat  and  almost  monopolized  the 
dancers.  In  order  to  equalize  matters,  the  shrewd 
capitalists  hit  upon  the  scheme  of  alternating  the 
hurdy  performances,  one  week  at  Moore's  Flat 

[252] 


SPORTSMEN  AND   SPORTING 

and  the  next  at  Minnesota.  It  worked  to  a 
charm,  not  only  in  accruing  profit  for  the  hurdy- 
houses,  but  also  from  the  fact  that  the  Moore's 
Flatters  in  goodly  numbers  invaded  the  rival 
camp  when  the  hurdies  made  their  pilgrimage 
over  the  river,  and  vice  versa.  Toll  at  a  dollar 
a  head,  under  the  stimulus,  changed  the  invest- 
ment into  a  profitable  one,  and  the  public-spirited 
capitalists  pulled  out  with  a  good  profit.  It 
followed  that  the  toll-keeper's  cash  receipts 
amounted  to  a  handsome  sum  —  enough  to  tempt 
the  cupidity  of  three  highwaymen  who  under- 
took to  rob  our  Irishman  of  the  accumulated 
tolls.  One  Monday  morning,  before  he  had 
made  his  usual  trip  to  the  Flat  with  the  Sunday's 
toll  receipts,  three  robbers  called  him  out  and 
demanded  the  coin,  levelling  their  six-shooters  at 
his  head  to  emphasize  the  request.  The  Irish- 
man, a  brave  and  pugnacious  fellow,  unarmed 
as  he  was,  seized  a  pick  handle  that  stood  by  the 
door  and  wielded  it  with  deadly  effect,  by  a 
miracle  escaping  the  fusillade  of  bullets  provoked 
by  his  unexpected  action.  It  is  an  historical  rec- 
ord that  he  killed  all  three  of  the  thieves  with  his 
singular  weapon  and  went  into  history  as  a  gen- 
uine hero.  From  the  incident  the  Flatters 

[253] 


THE       CITY        OF       SIX 

dubbed  the  ravine  "Bloody  Run,"  and  it  bears 
the  name  to  this  day. 

It  was  nightfall  when  the  little  party  reached 
its  destination,  and  its  members  met  with  a  most 
hospitable  welcome  from  the  landlady  of  the 
hotel,  from  whom  the  town  was  named.  Mike's 
friend  Hanchett  was  also  on  hand  to  add  his 
welcome,  he  having  been  forewarned  of  the  ex- 
pected visit. 

The  town  was  in  marked  contrast  to  their  own 
quiet  hamlet.  The  mines  were  rich  and  exten- 
sive, and  some  two  thousand  miners  were  busy 
along  the  mountain-side,  burrowing  like  so  many 
gophers  in  the  old  channel.  One  would  judge 
by  the  first  glance  at  the  business  section,  com- 
prised in  one  long  street,  that  withal  it  was  a 
thirsty  population.  The  principal  and  only 
thoroughfare  was  as  usual  named  Main  Street, 
ninety-nine  out  of  a  hundred  of  the  mining 
towns  so  dubbing  the  highway  along  which  the 
stores,  hotels,  etc.,  were  strung,  displaying  a 
poverty  of  invention  in  marked  contrast  to  the 
picturesque  nomenclature  of  the  towns  them- 
selves. Cross  streets  were  impossible,  as  the 
camp  clung  precariously  to  the  steep  mountain- 
side and  the  first  impression  was  that  it  would 

[254] 


SPORTSMEN   AND   SPORTING 

require  but  a  slight  momentum  to  send  it  all 
sliding  down  into  the  river.  However,  its  loca- 
tion had  not  been  chosen  for  the  advantage  it  of- 
fered as  a  town  site, —  the  yellow  metal  was  there 
in  seemingly  inexhaustible  quantities,  and  the 
town  itself  was  but  a  secondary  consideration. 
Given  the  hotel,  the  express  office,  and  the  mer- 
chandise stores  as  a  centre,  there  stretched  awaj^ 
on  either  side  drinking  and  gambling  saloons 
by  the  score,  all  thronged  after  nightfall  and 
crowded  by  a  motley  multitude,  seeking  the  only 
distraction  offered,  convivial  libations  to  Bacchus 
or  the  more  fascinating  wooing  of  the  Goddess 
of  Chance,  who  spread  her  nets  in  many  different 
guises,  from  the  more  aristocratic  faro  and  monte 
games  to  the  boisterous  rondo  and  keno.  If 
business  was  somewhat  slack  during  the  week- 
days there  was  an  added  impetus  on  Saturday 
nights  and  Sundays,  when  the  miners  knocked 
off  work  and  plunged  into  rollicking  participa- 
tion in  the  pleasurable  attractions.  Usually 
they  were  a  good-natured  lot,  and  quarrels  were 
infrequent  except  among  the  gambling  fraternity 
themselves,  but  the  peace  and  quiet  was  occasion- 
ally broken  by  some  assertive  and  quarrelsome 
desperado,  who  in  his  cups  sought,  in  the  slang 

[255] 


THE       CITY       OF       SIX 

of  the  day,  to  clean  out  a  fandango  house,  or 
appease  his  fighting  instinct  by  the  sacrifice  of  a 
rival  rough.  These  encounters  were  too  frequent 
to  produce  more  than  a  ripple  of  interest  heyond 
the  comment  that  some  sport  had  "died  with 
his  boots  on." 

Sitting  on  the  porch  of  the  hotel,  Ranee  was 
reminded  of  his  adventure  with  the  dog  and  his 
encounter  with  the  "bad"  element,  and  inci- 
dentally wondered  what  had  become  of  Brant, 
whom,  it  will  be  recalled,  he  had  met  on  that 
occasion.  Hanchett,  who  insisted  upon  being 
the  host  of  the  party  in  his  role  of  Mike's  friend 
and  the  leading  citizen,  grew  enthusiastic  as  to 
the  future  of  the  place  and  reminiscent  over  its 
history.  It  was  amusing  to  listen  to  this  beard- 
less boy,  just  reaching  the  age  of  manhood,  dilate 
upon  the  discovery,  growth,  and  importance  of 
the  town,  of  which  by  right  of  his  luck  or  enter- 
prise he  was  the  chief  factor.  Scarcely  a  year 
had  passed  since,  abandoning  a  worked-out  claim 
over  on  Kanaka  Creek,  he  had  started  on  a 
prospecting  trip,  stumbled  on  these  rich  deposits, 
and  was  now  the  recipient  of  an  income  of  over 
a  thousand  dollars  a  day,  with  every  indication 
that  the  Paradise  claims,  as  he  had  named  them, 

[256] 


SPORTSMEN   AND    SPORTING 

would  hold  out  indefinitely.  These,  however, 
were  commonplaces  and  were  matched  by  hun- 
dreds of  equally  fortunate  finds  along  the  old 
stream. 

"  The  boys  have  decided  upon  having  a  week's 
holiday,"  he  informed  the  listeners, —  "horse 
races,  foot  races,  jackass  fights,  a  turkey  shoot, 
etc.;  and  to  round  it  off,  a  theatrical  company 
will  give  nightly  performances  in  the  town  hall. 
They  have  billed  for  production  tragedy,  com- 
edy, and  farce.  'The  Favorite  of  the  Foothills,' 
Sue  Robinson,  is  the  leading  woman,  and  the 
miners  all  swear  by  her.  She  paid  the  boys  a 
visit  in  their  claims  yesterday,  and  they  taught 
her  how  to  wash  a  pan  of  dirt.  You  can  bet 
that  they  fixed  it  for  her  to  get  a  good  prospect 
and  I  reckon  she  had  four  or  five  ounces  when 
she  got  through  making  her  rounds.  The  joke 
of  it  is  that  she  plays  that  little  game  in  every 
camp  that  the  troupe  shows  in,  and  they  do 
say  that  she  has  more  of  an  income  from  that 
source  than  from  her  salary.  What  difference 
does  it  make?  They  don't  begrudge  it  and  are 
willing  to  pay  the  price  for  the  pleasure  the 
visit  gives  them." 

"Yes,  but  about  racing,"  interjected  Ranee. 

[257] 


THE       CITY       OF       SIX 

"To  run  a  race  there  has  to  be  a  track,  and 
where  can  you  make  one  anywhere  about  here? 
There  is  not  a  level  spot  in  sight  of  the  place." 

"Oh,  we've  got  a  track  up  on  the  ridge  going 
to  Snow  Point.  To  be  sure,  there  are  a  few 
humps  in  it,  but  it 's  straight  away  for  a  quarter 
of  a  mile  and  that's  all  that  is  needed,"  re- 
plied Hanchett.  "Don't  worry,  the  boys  are 
thoroughbreds  if  the  horses  are  not,  and  you 
will  see  good  sport  before  the  week  is  over." 

".That  is  all  right,  we  will  all  enjoy  it;  but 
the  race  horses,  where  do  they  come  from?" 
queried  Ranee.  "I  never  heard  that  Moore's 
Flat  was  noted  for  its  fast  stock." 

"That  is  easy,"  Hanchett  informed  him.  "We 
have  got  one  horse  here  that  is  hard  to  beat, 
and  he  belongs  to  me.  He's  called  'Honest 
John  Wagner,'  and  I  bought  him  at  Nevada 
City  after  he  had  fooled  all  the  gamblers  in  that 
section.  If  you  want  to  rile  a  Nevada  sport, 
mention  that  horse  to  him  and  you  can  have  a 
fight  on  your  hands  in  a  minute.  As  for  our 
racing  stock,  we  were  a  little  puzzled  at  first; 
but  I  happened  to  remember  old  man  Hennessy 
who  keeps  the  stables  at  San  Juan.  No  better 
judge  of  horse  flesh  in  the  State  than  that  same 

[258] 


SPORTSMEN  AND    SPORTING 

Hennessy,  who  quit  the  seat  of  a  New  York 
cab  to  try  his  fortune  here  and  naturally  fell 
into  the  livery  business.  Our  roads  are  all  trails, 
so  his  stock  are  saddle  animals  principally,  and 
he  has  picked  up  from  emigrants  from  Kentucky, 
Missouri,  and  other  Western  States  a  lot  of 
horses  of  superior  breed,  pedigree,  and  endur- 
ance. We  made  a  bargain  with  him  to  bring  a 
dozen  to  the  Flat  and  we  would  match  them  to 
suit  ourselves,  guaranteeing  him  a  handsome 
percentage  of  the  stakes  and  putting  him  on  his 
honor  not  to  reveal  to  any  one  his  knowledge  of 
their  speed.  He  brought  them  up  two  or  three 
days  ago  and  there  isn't  a  shoe-string  gambler 
in  the  camp  that  has  not  tried  to  bribe  him  to 
give  a  line  on  their  respective  qualities;  but  he 
has  scorned  their  dirty  money.  To  all  he  has 
said,  'I  will  not  spile  sport.  I  may  have  me 
own  opinion,  but  it 's  to  mesilf  I  '11  kape  it  until 
after  the  race  is  run';  and  I  believe  the  old 
fellow  will  stick  to  his  word. 

".Talking  about  these  gamblers,  did  you  hear 
how  they  were  all  cleaned  out  a  couple  of  months 
ago  at  the  county-seat?  No?  It  happened  this  way. 
A  rough  old  cattleman  from  the  plains  drove 
a  bunch  of  steers  into  Nevada  City,  which  he 

[259] 


THE       CITY       OF       SIX 

disposed  of  to  the  local  butchers  for  cash.  He 
rode  a  good-looking  mare,  putting  it  up  in  the 
livery  stable,  and  after  the  sale  he  proceeded  to 
fill  up  on  tanglefoot,  becoming  quite  boastful  as 
to  the  ability  of  his  riding  animal  to  beat  any- 
thing on  four  legs  in  the  county,  and  offering 
to  wager  a  thousand  dollars  to  back  his  opinion. 
Like  all  the  foothill  mining  camps,  Nevada  City 
had  a  fast  quarter  horse,  which  had  beaten  the 
favorites  of  all  the  towns  round  about,  and 
the  sports  believed  it  was  invincible.  To  make  the 
betting  a  certainty  they  hatched  a  little  plot  and 
proceeded  to  carry  it  into  effect.  The  cattleman 
had  kept  up  his  drinking  and  boasting  all  the 
afternoon,  and  half  a  dozen  gamblers  were 
deputized  to  keep  him  in  tow  during  the  evening, 
while  a  dozen  more  arranged  for  a  moonlight 
speed  trial  on  the  track  a  short  distance 
from  the  camp.  The  stable-keeper,  more  than 
willing  to  turn  a  dishonest  dollar,  consented  to 
the  temporary  abstraction  of  the  stranger's  mare 
and  the  local  favorite  was  pitted  against  her. 
Two  light-weight  riders  were  provided,  and  the 
racers  were  pushed  to  their  best.  Two  trials 
were  had  and  in  each  one  the  home  mare  out- 
footed  the  stranger  ten  yards  or  more  in  the  dash 

[260] 


SPORTSMEN  AND   SPORTING 

for  a  quarter  of  a  mile.  That  was  sufficient; 
the  stolen  steed  was  restored  to  the  stable,  the 
information  given  to  the  local  sports,  and  a 
match  race  made  for  one  thousand  dollars  a  side, 
to  be  run  the  next  afternoon,  the  cattleman  in- 
sisting that  the  express  agent,  a  square  man, 
should  hold  the  stakes.  Before  all  parties  re- 
tired he  had  made  side  bets  of  several  thousand 
more,  bantered  into  it  by  the  now  confident 
gamblers.  The  next  morning,  apparently  sober, 
he  was  the  picture  of  dejection  and  tried  to  beg 
off  on  the  ground  of  irresponsibility  under  the 
influence  of  whiskey.  The  sports,  however,  in- 
sisted that  it  was  either  run  the  race  or  forfeit 
the  money.  Finding  them  inexorable,  he  pro- 
ceeded to  drown  his  sorrow  in  filling  up  again, 
and  was  soon  as  maudlin,  boastful,  and  ready 
to  back  his  mare  as  the  day  previous.  It  was 
astonishing  how  much  coin  he  was  able  to 
produce,  the  express  agent  answering  his  calls 
for  money  without  demur;  the  consequence  was 
that  by  noon  he  had  put  up  thirty-two  thousand 
dollars  and  bet  the  sports  to  a  standstill.  Then 
the  boss  gambler,  a  little  nervous  over  the  few 
thousands  that  he  had  placed  on  a  sure  thing, 
concluded  he  would  interview  the  agent,  especi- 

[261] 


THE       CITY       OF       SIX 

ally  as  the  cattleman  seemed  to  recover  his  so- 
briety as  soon  as  there  were  no  more  bets  in  sight. 
He  learned  that  the  agent  knew  the  stranger,  who 
was  Andy  Wheeler,  the  owner  of  a  big  Spanish 
grant  in  Napa  Valley,  who  had  thousands  of 
cattle  on  the  range,  and  was  good  for  half  a  mil- 
lion anywhere.  'Besides,'  he  added,  'I  'm  taking 
no  chances ;  I  hold  certificates  of  deposit  with  my 
company  for  fifty  thousand  dollars;  they  are  as 
good  as  the  gold  coin,  and  he  can  draw  the  full 
amount  if  he  wants  to.'  This  information  soon 
spread,  and  the  sports'  eager  efforts  to  secure 
easy  money  came  to  an  end.  In  the  meantime, 
half  a  dozen  tough-looking  vaqueros,  who  had 
driven  in  the  bunch  of  cattle,  had  taken  the  boss's 
mare  from  the  stable  to  their  camp,  and  the  pop- 
ulation wended  its  way  to  the  track.  It  was 
noted  that  a  little  darky  who  up  to  that  time  had 
not  been  in  evidence  was  in  the  saddle  exercising 
the  racer;  and  that  the  vaqueros,  each  with  a 
couple  of  big  revolvers  in  belt,  were  acting  as 
bodyguard  to  their  employer.  The  situation  had 
such  a  business  look  that  it  gave  the  gamblers 
the  cold  shivers.  They  could  not  help  feeling 
that  there  was  a  screw  loose  somewhere;  but 
where?  They  had  given  the  horses  a  thorough 

[262] 


SPORTSMEN   AND    SPORTING 

test,  and  if  they  were  deceived  they  could  not 
puzzle  out  the  plot.  To  make  a  long  story 
short,  the  race  was  run  and  the  local  mare  was 
beaten  fifteen  yards  in  the  quarter.  They  were 
a  sore  and  disgusted  lot  of  sports,  but  they  had 
to  take  their  medicine.  They  could  not  cry 
fraud,  for  there  was  nothing  to  indicate  it.  Their 
mood  was  ugly  enough  to  pick  a  quarrel ;  but  two 
could  play  at  that  game,  and  the  stranger  and 
his  vaqueros  were  too  formidable  to  be  intim- 
idated. There  was  nothing  left  but  to  pocket 
the  losses  and  let  it  go  at  that.  The  morning 
stage  for  Sacramento  carried  a  heavy  treasure 
box,  and  the  cattleman  and  his  men  returned  to 
the  plains  congratulating  themselves  on  a  prof- 
itable trip.  The  boys  learned  afterwards  that 
the  mare  was  the  well-known  'Missouri  Jane/ 
the  speediest  quarter  horse  between  the  Missouri 
River  and  the  Pacific  Ocean,  and  that  she  had 
made  the  same  sojt  of  a  coup  a  dozen  times  in 
as  many  towns,  from  Mariposa  to  Siskiyou. 
That  is  why  you  must  be  careful  when  you  talk 
about  racing  down  at  the  county-seat." 

Ranee  had  listened  to  this  tale  of  the  biter  and 
the  bitten  and  acknowledged  that  it  was  inter- 
esting, but  he  did  not  exactly  see  how  it  was  done. 

[263] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

"'What  was  the  secret  of  the  moonlight  trial, 
Hanchett?" 

"Simple  enough,"  chuckled  the  raconteur; 
the  mare  was  cross-shod  when  she  was  put  in  the 
stable." 

"Cross-shod,  what 's  that?"  queried  Ranee. 

"The  shoes  on  her  off  fore  and  near  hind  foot 
were  two  pounds  heavier  than  their  opposites. 
This  threw  her  off  her  gait  and  she  could  not 
make  time,  no  matter  how  hard  she  was  pushed. 
Before  the  race,  these  shoes  were  taken  off, 
racing  plates  substituted,  and  she  was  ready 
for  action." 

"Oh!"  said  Ranee,  bidding  his  companion 
good-night  and  returning  to  his  room,  musing 
on  the  gullibilty  of  mankind  in  general  and  the 
Nevada  sports  in  particular. 


[264] 


CHAPTER  XXII 

THE     RACES 

week  opened  as  a  general  holiday,  the 
principal  mines  shutting  down  and  the  in- 
habitants of  the  neighboring  camps  —  Orleans, 
Woolsey's,  and  Minnesota  Flat — swelling  the 
crowd.  Even  the  river  miners,  who  had  been 
forced  after  a  prosperous  season  to  suspend 
operations  by  high  water  incidental  to  early 
storms,  flocked  to  the  centre  of  attraction,  with 
the  result  of  a  gathering  of  four  or  five  thou- 
sand men,  all  bent  on  a  good  time, —  that  is,  a 
carnival  of  dissipation  and  prodigality. 

Our  party,  who  were  comfortably  domiciled 
at  the  hotel,  rather  enjoyed  the  change  from  the 
quiet  life  at  The  City  of  Six  and  prepared  to 
participate  to  a  mild  degree  in  the  excitement. 
Ruth  was  somewhat  fearful  that  Tex  would 
stray  from  under  her  wing,  she  being  inclined  at 
first  to  resent  his  sporting  tendencies,  and  was  sur- 
prised to  discover  that  the  chances  were  that  the 
gray  mare  in  this  case  was  not  to  be  the  better 

[265] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

horse.  He  had  a  quiet  way  of  passive  resist- 
ance when  she  sought  to  curb  his  liberties,  and 
he  tolerated  her  idiosyncrasies  as  natural  to  the 
sex  and  a  penalty  of  the  marriage  state,  which 
all  men  who  took  upon  themselves  the  matri- 
monial yoke  had  to  encounter  and  make  the  best 
of;  and  so  he  listened  placidly  to  her  lectures, 
smiled  at  her  alarms  as  to  the  possibilities  of  his 
moral  downfall,  and  reckoned  that  one  who  had 
mingled  in  the  mixed  society  of  the  Texas  border 
and  had  not  fallen  by  the  wayside  had  the  sta- 
mina to  resist  the  temptations  of  the  mining 
camps.  In  fact,  with  the  resumption  of  his 
pipe  he  had  inwardly  declared  his  independence. 
Not  but  that  he  was  loving  and  devoted,  but 
he  was  manly  and  not  made  of  the  weak  fibre 
that  would  permit  the  domination  of  his  wife 
in  any  of  the  larger  affairs  of  life. 

"The  little  woman,"  he  explained  to  Ranee, 
as  he  strolled  away  with  that  worthy  to  the  sta- 
ble for  a  glimpse  at  the  rival  horses,  "is  that 
innocent  that  she  has  no  sabey  of  the  world, 
and  I've  got  to  humor  her  until  she  has  had 
some  experience.  She's  afraid  I  will  fall  into 
bad  habits,  and  me  casehardened  at  what  I've 
seen  and  been  through.  I  reckon  before  long 

[266] 


THE  RACES 

she  will  find  I  size  up  pretty  well  as  husbands 
go,  and  let  up  on  her  foolishness." 

Ranee  whistled  and  broke  into  a  laugh  over 
this  new  view  of  Ruth's  character,  but  lapsed 
into  seriousness  again  as  Tex,  who  did  not  seem 
to  take  his  hilarity  in  good  part,  resumed: 

"Don't  make  any  mistake,  Ranee;  she  is  one 
of  the  best  little  women  on  earth,  but  she  was 
nearly  spoiled  by  that  first  husband  of  hers.  He 
stuck  around  the  house  and  tied  himself  to  her 
apron  strings  until  she  was  dead  tired  of  seeing 
him,  and  he  hadn't  sense  enough  to  get  out  of 
the  way  once  in  a  while  to  give  her  a  chance  to 
stack  up  his  virtues  against  his  weaknesses. 
None  of  that  for  me.  I  want  to  be  out  of  doors, 
riding  the  range,  bossing  the  ranch,  and  looking 
after  affairs  in  general;  and  that  is  why  I  am 
going  to  have  a  cattle  ranch  somewhere  in  the 
valley  and  a  ranch  house  big  enough  to  keep 
Ruth  busy  superintending  it.  That,"  added 
Tex,  "will  divert  her  mind  from  dwelling  too 
much  on  'biled  shirts'  and  Sunday  harness,  and 
we  will  live  in  peace  and  contentment." 

Ranee  could  not  fail  to  see  the  good  sense 
and  shrewdness  of  Tex's  plans,  and  heartily  com- 
mended him  on  his  wisdom. 

[267] 


THE       CITY       OF       SIX 

As  for  Ruth,  she  soon  became  accustomed  to 
and  rather  liked  the  big  fellow's  assumption  of 
authority.  She  was  vexed  at  times  when  the  use 
of  her  sharp  tongue  made  no  more  impression 
on  her  husband  than  the  wind  whistling  through 
a  tree-top.  He  had  a  habit  of  failing  to  retort, 
listening  to  the  flow  of  speech  without  comment. 

"He  was  that  aggravating,"  she  confided  to 
a  sympathetic  friend,  "he  took  down  his  hat, 
filled  his  pipe,  and  walked  away  without  a  word, 
and  left  me  to  talk  to  the  four  walls.  Then  I 
began  to  think  it  was  a  shame  to  torment  so 
good  a  husband,  and  was  that  anxious  for  him 
to  come  back.  Gracious !  What  a  fool  a  woman 
can  make  of  herself  over  a  man!" 

And  then  Ruth  made  a  confession  that  indi- 
cated the  affection  with  which  she  regarded  Tex. 

"You  know,  I  always  despised  the  smell  of 
smoke ;  it  made  me  sick,  and  I  would  n't  tolerate 
it  around  where  I  was.  Now,  I  am  that  silly  that 
I  had  rather  have  the  odor  of  tobacco  in  the 
house  than  Cologne  water ;  it  seems  when  I  sniff 
it  as  if  he  was  somewhere  close  around.  Oh! 
I  know  I  am  going  to  spoil  him,"  she  protested, 
"but  I  don't  care;  he's  worth  it."  From  which 


THE  RACES 

it  will  be  seen  that  the  couple  bade  fair  to  enjoy 
a  goodly  share  of  conjugal  happiness. 

The  change  of  scene  apparently  served  as  a 
tonic  to  Mrs.  Wakefield's  depressed  spirits.  She 
acted  as  chaperon  for  Ranee  and  Dot  or  accepted 
the  hospitality  of  Mrs.  Hanchett,  who  as  the 
wife  of  the  leading  citizen  was  the  arbiter  of 
fashion  and  society  in  the  mountain  town.  Prac- 
tical Wakefield  devoted  a  large  part  of  his  time 
to  the  examination  of  the  principal  mines,  pick- 
ing up  such  knowledge  of  the  improved  methods 
as  would  be  useful  to  him  on  his  return  to  The 
City  of  Six,  while  Tex  and  Ranee,  in  the  inter- 
vals of  absence  from  Ruth's  and  Dot's  society, 
found  in  Hanchett  a  congenial  spirit  and  became 
his  aids  and  advisers  in  his  role  of  master  of 
ceremonies.  There  were  two  races  billed  for  each 
afternoon,  and  Ranee  and  Tex,  endorsed  as 
square  men,  were  chosen  as  judges,  alternating 
in  this  capacity  with  a  couple  of  visitors  from 
Chipp's  Flat  and  Jericho,  who  bore  like  unsullied 
reputations. 

The  first  day's  contests  went  off  with  eclat, 
for  although  it  was  a  plunge  in  the  dark  as  far 
as  the  contestants  were  concerned,  it  gave  every 


[269] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

one  an  equal  chance  to  exercise  horse  judgment; 
and  as  it  turned  out,  the  animals  being  fairly 
well  matched,  the  races  were  close  and  exciting. 
On  the  next  day  there  was  to  be  a  change  in  the 
programme.  In  those  days  foot-racing  had  not 
fallen  to  the  depths  of  trickery  and  bad  faith 
which  characterized  it  later.  There  were  a  num- 
ber of  fast  ones  in  the  State,  and  many  were 
the  arguments  indulged  in  by  their  several  sup- 
porters as  to  whether  Swamp  John,  Bill  Cozad, 
Soda  Jack,  or  Cherokee  Bob  was  entitled  to  the 
championship.  They  were  the  noted  speedy  goers 
of  that  era,  with  occasionally  a  dark  entry  who 
mysteriously  appeared  upon  the  scene  and  con- 
tested the  honors  and  the  liberal  stakes  that  went 
with  them. 

Some  two  weeks  previously  Cherokee  Bob  had 
wandered  into  the  Flat;  and  as  he  had  beaten 
Swamp  John  in  record  time  in  a  square  race 
the  previous  year,  the  miners  regarded  him  as  at 
the  head  of  the  profession.  A  few  days  subse- 
quent to  his  advent  it  was  whispered  about  that 
the  gamblers  were  prepared  to  produce  an  un- 
known and  were  willing  to  wager  that  he  could 
lower  Bob's  flag.  Bob  was  consulted,  and  de- 
clared that  there  was  nothing  in  the  State  that 

[270] 


THE  RACES 

could  head  him;  and  on  the  strength  of  his 
assurances  the  match  was  made  for  two  thousand 
dollars  a  side,  to  be  run  in  ten  days;  and  Bob 
went  into  active  training.  It  leaked  out  later 
that  his  opponent  was  to  be  one  Harry  Vile,  an 
importation  from  England,  presumably  a  fast 
one,  but  just  how  fast  was  a  problem.  Bob's 
supporters  again  called  him  into  consultation, 
and  he  declared  that  he  knew  all  about  the  Eng- 
lishman's previous  performances  and  that  he, 
Bob,  was  certain  that  he  could  beat  the  quasi- 
unknown  five  feet  in  a  hundred  yards.  That  was 
enough  for  the  boys,  and  they  called  the  gamblers' 
bets  whenever  offered.  The  latter  demonstrated 
that  they  had  great  confidence  in  their  represen- 
tative by  the  amount  of  money  that  they  were 
willing  to  wager  on  him;  and,  as  a  result,  when 
the  day  for  the  race  came  around  there  was  at 
least  twenty  thousand  dollars  pending  on  the 
outcome.  Of  this  amount  Hanchett,  who  was  a 
thoroughbred  in  all  directions,  had  furnished  at 
least  a  quarter. 

He  was  somewhat  startled  the  evening  before 
the  event  when  aroused  from  his  slumber  by 
Ranee,  who  came  with  a  piece  of  interesting  news. 
Ranee,  after  the  other  members  of  the  party  had 

[271] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

retired,  had  withdrawn  to  a  secluded  corner  of 
the  hotel  porch,  indulging  in  pleasant  meditations 
and  the  seductive  influence  of  a  good  cigar,  and 
had  been  an  involuntary  listener  to  the  confi- 
dences of  a  Moore's  Flat  gambler  and  a  visiting 
knight  of  the  green  cloth  from  Forest  City,  the 
former  intent  upon  imparting  to  his  professional 
friend  what  promised  to  be  a  profitable  secret 
in  connection  with  the  coming  foot-race. 

"Get  your  money  down  on  the  Englishman; 
it 's  a  cinch,"  he  advised. 

"What  makes  you  think  so?"  asked  the  visitor. 
"Cherokee  Bob  is  a  hard  man  to  beat;  he  has 
demonstrated  what  he  can  do,  and  it  would  take 
a  wonder  to  head  him." 

"That  has  got  nothing  to  do  with  it;  the  race 
is  fixed.  Bob  gets  five  thousand  dollars  to 
stumble  and  fall  just  before  he  reaches  the  goal 
and  Vile  wins  the  money.  These  outsiders  that 
are  backing  the  Indian  are  easy,  and  it  is  a  shame 
not  to  take  their  cash  away  from  them.  The  job 
was  put  up  in  Sacramento;  we  are  all  in,  and 
Hanchett  and  his  crowd  have  no  suspicion  of 
how  they  are  being  played." 

Ranee  let  the  fire  die  out  of  his  cigar  and  kept 
quiet  in  the  background  until  the  two  worthies 

[272] 


THE  RACES 

departed.  He  had  no  wagers  on  the  race,  nor 
any  particular  interest  in  the  outcome,  but  he 
despised  treachery ;  besides,  he  had  taken  a  liking 
to  his  host  and  did  not  want  to  see  him  the  victim 
of  a  lot  of  thieves.  After  a  brief  cogitation  over 
the  matter,  he  decided  that  it  would  be  an  honor- 
able act  to  put  his  friend  on  his  guard.  Han- 
chett  was  somewhat  surprised,  although  not  very 
much  perturbed. 

"We  will  give  the  hounds  a  dose  of  their  own 
medicine,  thanks  to  you,  now  that  their  game 
is  exposed";  and  so  the  matter  rested  until  the 
next  morning. 

Then,  just  before  the  contest  was  on,  a  depu- 
tation of  his  backers  took  Bob  aside  and  held  a 
brief  but  pointed  interview  with  him.  He  was 
asked  if  he  was  still  certain  of  his  ability  to  win. 

"I  believe,"  he  stammered,  "that  I  can  beat 
him." 

"Didn't  you  swear  to  us,"  retorted  Hanchett, 
"that  you  had  him  measured  and  was  sure  that 
you  could  outrun  him?" 

"Yes,  but  he  may  be  faster  than  I  gave  him 
3redit  for,"  replied  the  Indian,  who  began  to  get 
i  glimmer  of  the  fact  that  he  was  in  a  tight  box. 

"All  right,  he  may  be,"  was  Hanchett's  grim 

[273] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

comment;  "but  if  he  is,  it  v/ill  be  mighty  bad 
for  your  health.  Now  listen.  There  will  be  a 
man  stationed  at  every  ten  yards  along  the  track 
from  start  to  finish.  Every  mother's  son  of  'em 
knows  how  to  handle  a  gun,  and  at  whatever 
point  you  are  behind,  the  shooting  will  begin. 
Just  make  up  your  mind  that  no  low-down  Cher- 
okee can  come  into  this  camp  and  play  us  for 
suckers.  You  said  you  could  win,  and  you  will 
win,  stumble  or  no  stumble;  if  you  don't,  you 
will  beat  all  records  into  hell,  where  you  belong, 
you  treacherous  dog." 

The  Cherokee  realized  that  the  jig  was  up, 
and  confessed  that  he  and  Vile  were  confederates 
and  had  been  brought  to  the  Flat  for  the  express 
purpose  of  robbing  the  miners. 

"If  I  don't  lose,"  he  pleaded,  "the  gamblers 
will  kill  me.  What  can  I  do?" 

"My  advice  is,"  said  Hanchett,  "that  you  keep 
on  running  until  you  reach  Snow  Point." 

"But  my  clothes, —  they  are  all  in  town?" 

"We  will  see  that  they  are  brought  to  you, 
we  will  give  you  your  agreed  percentage  of  the 
stakes,  and  then  you  had  better  get  your  worth- 
less carcass  out  of  the  county  as  fast  as  your 
legs  will  carry  you." 

[274] 


THE  RACES 

Needless  to  say  that  the  Indian  was  never 
headed,  or  to  add  that  he  made  excellent  time  up 
the  ridge  to  Snow  Point.  The  gamblers,  goaded 
to  fury  by  the  failure  of  their  plot,  were  for  pur- 
suing, bringing  the  Cherokee  back,  and  hanging 
him ;  but  here  the  miners  interfered,  and  the  losers 
were  too  cautious  to  precipitate  a  row  with  the 
victors.  Crestfallen  and  chagrined  they  sub- 
mitted to  their  losses  with  the  best  grace  possible, 
and  the  incident  closed. 

The  trick  was  subsequently  played  in  other 
camps  with  better  success,  but  with  the  ultimate 
result  of  foot-racing  being  regarded  as  less  hon- 
orable than  holding  up  stages  or  robbing  sluices. 

The  occurrence,  while  crippling  the  gamblers' 
resources,  had  little  effect  on  the  week's  sport. 
In  fact,  the  miners,  flush  with  the  spoils,  were 
more  reckless  than  ever  and  backed  their  favorites 
with  prodigal  profusion;  and  there  were  enough 
minor  incidents  of  a  more  or  less  exciting  nature 
to  keep  the  camp  in  a  ferment.  One  of  the  most 
unique  of  these  sprang  from  the  rivalry  between 
the  dwellers  of  Jericho  and  Gomorrah,  two  lively 
hamlets  on  the  slope.  Each  had  picked  its  fav- 
orite horse  and  backed  it  to  the  limit.  To  lend 
novelty  to  the  race,  the  jockeys  were  two  well- 
pro] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

known  ladies,  about  whose  morals  there  was  no 
suspicion, —  they  had  none  to  be  suspected  of. 
They  rejoiced  in  the  sobriquets  of  ''French 
Henrietta"  and  "Boston  Ann,"  and  were  so 
named  by  a  wide  circle  of  acquaintances.  These 
two  rode  an  exciting  contest  amid  the  plaudits 
and  encouragement  of  the  novelty-seeking  multi- 
tude. Henrietta  created  a  temporary  monetary 
stringency  at  Jericho  by  riding  to  victory  the 
steed  selected  by  the  Gomorrahites,  a  victory 
somewhat  chastened  to  the  triumphant  French- 
woman by  her  coming  off  second-best  in  a  hair- 
pulling  match  instituted  by  the  disgruntled  Ann 
as  a  vent  to  her  anger  over  the  result. 

Minor  gun  plays  were  frequent,  but  none  fatal. 
Red  Andy  welched  on  his  bets  and  took  to  the 
brush,  accelerated  by  a  fusillade  of  bullets,  but  he 
escaped  unscathed ;  which  led  Jim  Brand  to  criti- 
cise severely  the  marksmanship  of  the  crowd. 

"These  fellers  could  do  more  execution  with 
a  pick  handle,  and  should  not  be  allowed  to  use 
a  Colt.  It's  a  reflection  on  the  community,  for 
they  are  that  keerless  that  they  will  hurt  some- 
body yet;  give  them  a  year  or  two's  practice." 

Ranee  and  Hanchett  had  become  inseparable 
during  the  gala  days,  especially  as  Mrs.  Hanchett 

[276] 


THE  RACES 

had  taken  Dot  under  her  wing;  and  the  spicy 
flavor  of  the  races  and  the  attending  sporting 
enthusiasts  lent  an  irresistible  charm  to  the  amuse- 
ment. Lon  was  a  good  judge  of  horseflesh, 
picked  the  winners  with  prescience,  and  as  Ranee 
and  the  ladies  followed  his  lead,  it  resulted  in 
a  quite  substantial  gain,  as  they  found  that  their 
pocket  money  had  increased  in  a  very  satisfactory 
way.  Dot  was  a  little  shocked  at  the  beginning, 
for  this  was  her  first  experience  in  the  uncon- 
ventional^atmosphere  of  a  mining  camp,  and  the 
license  disturbed  her  idea  of  the  proprieties.  The 
City  of  Six  had  been  an  exception  —  preserved, 
as  it  was,  from  the  influences  that  made  for  the 
new  life  elsewhere.  But  she  was  a  sensible  girl 
and  perhaps  a  little  flattered  by  the  deference 
that  was  paid  her ;  and  as  care  was  taken  that  she 
did  not  come  in  contact  with  the  baser  elements, 
she  did  not  realize  how  far  toleration  went,  or 
just  how  much  of  a  mixture  the  conditions  stood 
for.  Ruth  had  had  more  experience  and  was 
rather  critical  in  her  condemnation  of  the  "shame- 
less hussies"  who  were  so  much  in  evidence;  but 
even  she  enjoyed  the  excitement  and  change  of 
scene,  and  found  little  fault  with  Tex  in  his  active 
and  eager  participation  in  the  sports. 

[277] 


THE       CITY       OF        SIX 

Wakefield  betrayed  but  little  interest  in  the 
events  which  made  the  week  a  notable  one  in  the 
Moore's  Flat  annals,  but  he  formed  the  acquaint- 
ance of  various  foremen,  shift  bosses,  and  lead- 
ing miners,  and  found  much  profit  and  instruction 
in  getting  posted  on  all  the  latest  improvements 
and  devices  brought  into  play  in  drift  mining. 
He  had  decided  to  devote  himself  with  Mike  to 
the  calling ;  it  appealed  to  him  not  only  from  the 
profit  point  of  view,  but  also  from  the  sense  of 
power  and  independence  that  was  a  fascinating 
part  of  it.  The  fact  that  competition  was  elim- 
inated, that  one  mine's  prosperity  did  not  in- 
fringe on  or  detract  from  another's,  that  there 
was  a  ready  market  for  the  product  and  no 
fluctuation  in  prices,  that  labor  benefited  equally 
with  capital, —  all  this  interested  him,  and  he  had 
no  desire  to  abandon  the  field  and  go  elsewhere. 
Now  that  his  strange  hallucination  had  fallen 
away  from  him,  the  mountains  seemed  to  stand 
for  sanity  and  peace;  and  as  there  was  no  stress 
or  strain,  The  City  of  Six  would  be  his  abiding 
place  as  long  as  the  golden  shower  continued  to 
fall.  When  it  ceased,  it  would  be  time  to  take 
up  other  problems. 


[278] 


CHAPTER   XXIII 

MRS.  WAKEFEELD'S  ELOPEMENT 

npHERE  had  been  a  change  in  Mrs.  Wake- 
field's  humor.  While  she  had  taken  no  active 
part  in  the  week's  festivities,  not  even  as  a  looker- 
on,  she  had  lost  her  querulousness  and  seemed  to 
be  fairly /content.  There  had  been  some  planning 
as  to  the  future.  They  would  depart  for  the  city 
before  the  first  snow,  Tex  and  Ruth,  Ranee, 
Dot,  and  herself.  It  had  been  decided  that  Dot 
and  Ranee  would  be  married  at  San  Francisco, 
and  it  was  understood  that  Mrs.  Wakefield  would 
accompany  the  happy  pair  on  a  visit  to  Ranee's 
birthplace,  returning  in  the  spring.  The  plan 
was  acquiesced  in  by  Wakefield,  who  was  per- 
suaded that  travel  would  go  far  to  restore  his 
wife  to  her  normal  state.  Without  attempting 
to  analyze  the  cause,  beyond  attributing  it  to  the 
strain  on  her  nerves  in  enduring  his  recent  aber- 
rations, he  felt  that  there  had  risen  a  bar  between 
them.  She  was  no  longer  the  woman  he  had 
wedded  in  the  old  village  and  with  whom  he  had 
led  the  simple  life.  There  was  coldness,  discon- 

[279] 


THE       CITY       OF        SIX 

tent,  depression,  which  she  had  hardly  striven  to 
conceal ;  but  he  charged  it  all  to  a  woman's  whims 
and  did  not  give  it  the  consideration  that  a  more 
suspicious  or  less  practical  man  would  have 
entertained.  It  would  do  her  good  to  see  a  little 
of  the  world,  and,  as  Ruth  said,  "she  would  get 
rid  of  some  of  her  notions." 

Ranee  wondered  why  he  had  not  seen  Brant 
during  his  stay.  He  knew  that  the  fellow  was 
at  the  Flat  and  was  closing  up  his  affairs  with 
the  avowed  intent  of  quitting  the  country.  It 
was  not  an  involved  business  that  necessitated 
any  delay,  as  it  merely  meant  taking  down  the 
capital  employed  in  the  backing  of  the  sundry 
gambling  games.  Ranee  was  rather  pleased  that 
the  man  avoided  him,  for  he  was  still  indignant 
over  his  treachery,  and  a  meeting  might  have 
resulted  in  an  encounter.  However,  he  believed 
that  Mike's  admonitions  had  been  effectual,  and 
that  if  there  had  existed  any  undue  intimacy  it 
had  been  broken  off. 

The  party  was  to  leave  Sunday  morning  for 
The  City  of  Six  and  then  hasten  preparations  for 
the  journey  to  San  Francisco.  Saturday  would 
be  the  great  day  of  the  week,  as  two  unbeaten 
horses,  each  having  won  from  all  opponents,  were 

[280] 


MRS.  WAKEFIELD'S    ELOPEMENT 

to  measure  heels,  and  they  were  so  equally 
matched  that  the  camp  was  divided  as  to  their 
merits. 

The  day  had  furnished  an  exciting  incident 
that  was  quite  out  of  the  programme.  At  that 
time  the  notorious  Tom  Bell  and  his  gang  were 
raiding  the  roads  and  trails  of  the  section,  rob- 
bing stages  and  holding  up  travellers,  not  hesi- 
tating to  add  violence  and  murder  to  their  depre- 
dations. There  was  a  reward  of  five  thousand 
dollars  offered  for  the  capture  of  Bell,  dead  or 
alive,  preferably  dead,  and  various  posses  had 
tried  their  best  to  earn  it,  although  without  suc- 
cess. He  was  an  audacious  scoundrel,  making 
many  bold  forays,  and  his  operations  had  become 
a  serious  and  intolerable  tax  on  the  mountain- 
dwellers.  Indignation  rose  to  fever  point  that 
afternoon  when  he  with  his  followers  invaded  the 
outskirts  of  the  race  course,  where  the  gamblers 
had  set  up  a  tent  and  were  running  various 
games,  coolly  covered  the  occupants  with  re- 
volvers, gathered  in  the  piles  of  coin,  and  rode  off 
with  the  booty,  amounting  to  several  thousand 
dollars.  As  the  raid  was  made  during  a  race, 
there  were  but  few  in  the  tent  and  no  resistance 
was  offered.  A  hue  and  cry  was  raised,  but  be- 

[281] 


THE       CITY       OF        SIX 

fore  a  posse  could  be  organized  for  pursuit,  the 
highwaymen  were  miles  away  and  out  of  danger 
of  capture.  Naturally,  the  incident  was  discussed 
in  all  its  bearings,  and  the  authorities  denounced 
for  not  having  run  down  and  exterminated  the 
robbers  during  the  months  that  they  had  terror- 
ized the  country;  but  it  was  forgotten  that  this 
task  had  been  attempted  and  half  a  dozen  good 
men  had  lost  their  lives,  when  the  gang,  brought 
to  bay,  outfought  and  defeated  their  pursuers. 

The  final  race,  which  by  process  of  elimination 
had  brought  together  antagonists  of  fairly 
matched  speed,  was  productive  of  the  wildest 
excitement  and  the  most  reckless  betting.  The 
crowd  backed  its  particular  choice  without  limit, 
and  thousands  of  dollars  were  wagered  on  the 
result.  Hanchett,  as  the  leading  man  of  the 
camp,  was  a  favorite  stakeholder.  After  filling 
all  other  receptacles  with  the  coin  forced  upon 
him  in  that  capacity,  he  was  compelled  to  use  his 
hat,  which  was  soon  loaded  to  the  brim  with  slugs 
(locally  coined  gold  pieces  valued  at  fifty  dol- 
lars) and  became  a  somewhat  embarrassing  im- 
pediment, not  only  by  its  weight  but  also  from 
the  fact  that  in  the  confusion  Hanchett  lost  all 
track  of  betters  and  the  amounts,  and  could  only 

[282] 


MRS.  WAKEFIELD'S   ELOPEMENT 

trust  to  luck  in  the  settlement.  As  it  turned 
out,  the  race  over,  he  paid  off  all  demands  made, 
and  to  his  surprise  found  himself  the  possessor  of 
a  surplus  of  three  hundred  dollars,  which  re- 
mained unidentified  and  uncalled  for. 

Altogether,  the  Moore's  Flatters  and  the  visi- 
tors were  content  with  their  entertainment.  The 
San  Juan  livery  man  was  paid  a  percentage  of 
three  thousand  dollars  for  furnishing  the  stock, 
besides  disposing  of  the  speediest  of  the  animals 
at  a  handsome  profit;  the  boys  had  a  bushel  of 
fun  and  a  welcome  relaxation  from  their  toil ;  and 
as  one  of  the  philosophic  put  it,  "if  money  cir- 
culated pretty  freely,  the  winners  and  losers  be- 
longed to  the  local  camps,  and  the  coin  stayed  at 
home." 

Our  party,  somewhat  wearied  with  the  high 
tension  of  the  week's  events,  rather  welcomed  the 
close  and  were  quite  willing  to  exchange  it  for 
the  repose  and  comparative  sedateness  of  their 
own  abiding  place."  It  was  understood  that  on 
the  next  morning  the  return  journey  should  be 
made.  Mike  had  come  over  on  the  last  day, 
"just  for  a  taste  of  the  fun,"  as  he  put  it,  and 
joined  his  friends  at  supper  that  evening,  to 
which,  by  the  way,  Hanchett  and  his  good  wife 

[283] 


THE       CITY        OF        SIX 

had  been  invited.  A  special  and  abundant  feast 
was  provided  by  the  landlady. 

It  was  supposed  that  Mrs.  Wakefield  had 
passed  the  day  at  their  cosy  home,  she  having 
pleaded  fatigue  and  a  waning  interest  in  the 
amusement  as  an  excuse  for  non-attendance  at 
the  track.  The  guests  arrived  without  her,  and 
they  were  surprised  when  the  landlady  explained 
that  she  had  returned  to  the  hotel  early  in  the 
afternoon,  had  been  met  by  Phillips,  and  that  the 
pair  had  departed  on  horseback  in  company, 
presumably  for  a  ride  down  the  ridge.  As  it 
was  by  this  time  quite  dark,  her  absence  seemed 
strange,  and  Ranee  and  Mike,  with  their  knowl- 
edge of  the  relationship  suspected  to  have  existed 
between  the  pair,  intuitively  jumped  at  a  similar 
conclusion  and  saw  in  the  situation  a  premedi- 
tated flight.  Shocked  beyond  expression,  they 
refrained  from  comment  until  by  a  common  im- 
pulse they  had  withdrawn  from  the  table  and  met 
outside.  Mike  exclaimed: 

"There's  not  a  doubt  of  it;  they've  gone  off 
together  and  the  divil  's  to  pay,  sure.  There  will 
be  an  awful  scandal  unless  we  can  manage  to 
kape  it  quiet;  but  how  can  we  explain  our  sus- 
picions to  the  rist  of  them?" 

[284] 


MRS.  WAKEFIELD'S  ELOPEMENT 

"Explain  nothing!  There  is  but  one  thing  to 
do  —  follow  them,  kill  the  d — d  scoundrel,  and 
bring  her  back  with  as  little  fuss  as  possible. 
My  God!  how  can  I  tell  Dot?  Think  of  the  dis- 
grace of  it  to  the  poor  innocent  girl." 

"What  about  the  ould  man?"  speculated  Mike. 
"Won't  it  make  him  looney  again?  Now,  if  it 
was  me,  I  'd  say,  let  her  go,  and  a  good  riddance ; 
but  ye  can  niver  tell  how  the  other  fellow  will 
take  it.  Still,  he  ought  to  be  killed,  and  I  '11  be 
glad  to  do  it.  They  must  have  taken  the  trail 
down  the  Backbone  Ridge  to  Nevada,  or  one 
down  the  Middle  Fork  striking  for  Marysville, 
and  they  have  six  hours  the  start.  Let 's  call  out 
Tex  and  Hanchett,  confide  the  circumstances  to 
them,  and  then  follow." 

Ranee,  in  an  agony  of  rage  and  apprehension, 
agreed,  and  it  was  done. 

Tex  was  stupefied  over  the  perfidy  of  the 
elopers,  but  as  indignant  and  eager  for  revenge 
as  his  comrades.  Hanchett,  to  whom  it  was  all 
new,  entered  into  the  proposed  pursuit  heartily. 

"  Phillips  is  a  heartless,  cold-blooded  scoundrel, 
and  if  we  overtake  him  we  won't  waste  any 
powder  unless  it  is  necessary.  I  will  take  along 
my  reata  and  we  will  hang  him  like  a  dog  to  the 

[285] 


THE       CITY        OF        SIX 

nearest  tree.     Saddle  your  horses,  and  we  will 
be  off  at  once." 

"But  what  will  we  say  to  the  women?  We 
must  make  some  excuse  for  our  departure,"  said 
Ranee. 

"Tell  them  nothing,"  replied  Mike,  "that  is, 
don't  drag  in  the  man's  name  until  we  have  to. 
Say  she  went  out  a-riding  on  a  little  pasear,  has 
probably  got  lost  in  the  chaparral,  and  we  will 
find  her  and  bring  her  home  very  soon.  Tex, 
you  go  in  and  give  Mrs.  Ruth  the  explanation 
and  then  join  us  as  quick  as  you  can." 

"That  is  sensible,"  interjected  Hanchett;  "and 
to  avoid  the  outside  talk  tell  my  wife  to  take  the 
ladies  up  to  my  house  and  wait  there  until  we 
get  back  or  they  hear  from  us." 

The  programme  was  carried  out ;  but  they  had 
overlooked  Wakefield,  who  at  this  juncture 
joined  them.  It  was  a  critical  moment,  but 
Ranee  had  the  presence  of  mind  to  explain  the 
situation  on  the  "lost"  theory,  which,  as  the  hus- 
band was  still  unsuspicious,  he  accepted  without 
demur.  He  hastened  to  the  stable  to  get  his  horse 
and  join  the  "searching  party."  It  was  agreed 
on  his  departure  that  he  should  be  kept  in  igno- 


[286] 


MRS.  WAKEFIELD'S   ELOPEMENT 

ranee  of  the  real  facts  until  developments  forced 
further  explanation. 

In  a  few  minutes  they  were  mounted  and  off 
on  a  blind  trail,  a  puzzling  problem  as  to  where 
it  would  lead  or  what  might  be  the  outcome. 
Wakefield's  presence  complicated  matters,  as  it 
forbade  discussion  of  the  real  object  of  the 
expedition. 

Ranee  and  Mike  pushed  ahead  out  of  hearing 
distance,  and  Mike  suggested  that  they  ride  on 
until  they  reached  the  Mountain  House,  some 
ten  miles  down  the  ridge,  and  there  they  could 
learn  whether  the  couple  had  passed  during  the 
day.  If  not,  they  were  fleeing  toward  Marys- 
ville,  and  the  pursuers  could  cut  across  the 
country  and  intercept  them  at  that  point.  On 
reaching  the  inn  it  was  learned  that  nothing  had 
been  seen  of  them;  and  as  it  was  now  midnight, 
they  decided  to  remain  until  daylight.  It  was 
a  dangerous  ride,  the  night  being  dark  and  moon- 
less, and  Mike  argued  that  the  pair  would  be 
forced  to  halt  on  their  way  until  morning,  so 
nothing  would  be  lost  by  the  delay. 

At  sunrise  they  started  again,  taking  the 
Bloody  Run  trail  to  the  river ;  they  had  gone  only 


[287] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

a  couple  of  miles  when  they  were  met  by  a  trav- 
eller, who  gave  them  a  bit  of  startling  news. 

"There  is  a  dead  man  lying  on  the  trail  half 
a  mile  below  here,"  he  informed  them.  "Mur- 
dered, I  reckon.  I  saw  that  he  had  been  shot,  and 
that  was  all.  I  thought  it  best  to  get  out  of  that 
neighborhood  as  soon  as  possible.  If  you  are 
going  down  that  way,  you  will  see  the  body  on 
the  left-hand  side  of  the  path.  Must  have  been 
there  all  night,  for  it  is  as  stiff  as  a  poker." 

It  was  a  malodorous  section,  and  Bloody  Run 
had  been  the  scene  of  many  murders  and  rob- 
beries ;  neither  Ranee  nor  Mike  had  any  particu- 
lar interest  in  the  news,  beyond  natural  curiosity 
and  sympathy  for  an  unknown  victim.  The 
traveller  left,  promising  to  inform  the  people  at 
the  Mountain  House,  so  that  the  authorities 
should  be  notified. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

FINDING  THE  LOST  SHEEP 

"DUSKING  on,  Ranee  and  Mike  again  took 
the  lead,  out  of  earshot  of  the  others. 

"We  can't  play  up  this  lost  theory  much 
longer,"  said  Mike.  "Wakefield  is  already  get- 
ting suspicious  and  asking  why  we  are  kaping 
to  the  trails,  or  making  inquiries  at  the  miners' 
cabins,  and  why  we  should  go  to  the  river  instid 
of  hunting  around  the  ridge.  I  think  it  will  be 
best  to  halt  down  below  here  and  tell  him  the 
truth." 

Ranee  gloomily  agreed,  and  it  was  so  decided ; 
but  the  trail  was  steep,  and  they  rode  on  until 
they  could  find  a  halting-place  where  they  could 
dismount.  They  reined  in  their  horses  on  a  little 
bench  a  few  hundred  rods  farther  on,  and  here, 
as  the  remainder  of  the  party  joined  them,  they 
made  a  discovery  that  led  them  at  once  to  revoke 
their  decision.  On  the  oak-covered  knoll  of  not 
more  than  a  couple  of  hundred  feet  in  area,  they 
found  the  murdered  man,  face  downward,  fingers 
clutched  in  the  grass  roots,  hair  matted  and  wet 

[289] 


THE        CITY       OF        SIX 

with  blood  oozed  from  a  bullet  hole  in  his  skull. 
To  both  there  was  something  strangely  familiar 
in  the  corpse,  and  the  thought  came  simultan- 
eously to  the  pursuers  that  their  hunt  had  ended, 
and  that  so  far  as  they  were  concerned  their 
quarry  had  escaped  their  vengeance. 

"By  God!  it's  Brant  Phillips,"  cried  Ranee, 
as  they  leaped  from  their  saddles,  and  approached 
the  lifeless  figure.  They  turned  the  body  over, 
gazing  at  the  white,  bloodless  face  and  dilated 
eyes  staring  into  the  unknown.  For  a  brief  time 
silence  fell  upon  them,  each  busy  with  his  own 
thoughts.  They  would  have  meted  out  the  same 
fate  had  they  overtaken  him,  and  yet  in  the  pres- 
ence of  death  there  was  a  revulsion  of  sentiment 
at  his  tragic  end,  succeeded  by  a  feeling  of  relief 
that  his  blood  was  not  on  their  hands. 

Tex  spoke  first. 

"He's  been  robbed  and  murdered  without 
doubt,"  his  theory  confirmed  by  the  absence  of 
any  valuables  or  arms.  A  survey  of  the  ground 
roundabout  gave  no  evidence  of  a  struggle ;  there 
were  many  hoof -prints,  and  the  grass  was  beaten 
down,  and  that  was  all. 

"  He  must  have  been  shot  from  ambush,  taken 
unawares,"  commented  Hanchett,  "for  he  was 

[290] 


FINDING     THE     LOST     SHEEP 

quick  on  the  trigger  and  as  brave  as  they  make 
'em.  He  was  riding  his  own  animal,  Selim,  as 
good  a  saddle  horse  as  there  was  on  the  ridge; 
and  as  he  was  leaving  for  good  and  must  have 
had  a  lot  of  money  with  him,  somebody  got  onto 
it  and  waylaid  him  on  the  trail.  They  have  taken 
his  horse  and  saddle  bags,  and  are  miles  away  by 
this  time." 

"But  the  woman,  where  is  she?"  excitedly 
queried  Tex. 

"What  woman?"  demanded  Wakefield,  upon 
whom  it  suddenly  flashed  that  the  woman  re- 
ferred to  was  his  wife,  who  for  some  strange 
reason  had  been  in  company  with  the  outcast 
gambler.  "Why  do  you  ask  for  a  woman? 
What  is  it  that  you  are  concealing  from  me?  Is 
it  my  wife  that  you  mean?  And  is  this  why  you 
have  followed  the  trail  instead  of  looking  for 
her  on  the  mountain?" 

Ranee  came  to  the  rescue,  and  placing  his 
hand  soothingly  on  Wakefield's  shoulder,  replied, 

"Yes,  old  man,  we  think  your  wife  was  with 
him.  They  left  the  Flat  together,  but  there  is 
nothing  particularly  wrong  about  that.  They 
were  very  friendly,  and  she  probably  rode  out  a 
ways  on  the  trail  with  him  to  bid  him  good-bye. 

[291] 


THE       CITY       OF        SIX 

It  was  imprudent,  of  course,  but  she  never  gave 
that  a  thought.  The  chances  are  that  she  left 
him  on  the  ridge  and  has  returned  to  town,  and 
that  is  where  you  had  better  go  without  delay." 

It  was  a  rather  lame  hypothesis,  although  the 
best  Ranee  could  muster  in  the  exigency  of  the 
moment,  and  it  was  far  from  convincing.  Wake- 
field  revolved  in  his  mind  many  little  incidents 
subsequent  to  his  return  to  sanity, — her  coldness, 
apparent  alienation,  distaste  for  her  home  and 
its  surroundings;  but  in  the  whirl  of  his  brain 
he  took  counsel  with  himself  and  betrayed  no 
outward  sign  of  the  truth  that  was  forcing  itself 
on  his  consciousness. 

"It  may  be  as  you  say,  Ranee;  anyway,  what- 
ever it  is,  she  must  be  found,"  he  answered. 
"  God  grant  no  harm  has  come  to  her." 

The  listeners  were  agreeably  surprised  at  his 
calmness  and  relieved  that  the  revelation  had  not 
upset  him.  They  knew  nothing  of  the  turmoil 
that  racked  him,  or  the  stubborn  pride  that  con- 
cealed it.  The  imminent  question  was,  what  was 
to  be  done?  It  was  decided  that  Tex,  Mike,  and 
Hanchett  should  return  to  the  Mountain  House, 
conveying  Phillips's  body  with  them. 

"We  will  give  the  dog  a  decent  burial,  if  noth- 

[292] 


FINDING     THE     LOST     SHEEP 

ing  else,"  said  Hanchett ;  while  Ranee  and  Wake- 
field  were  to  follow  the  trail  to  the  river,  in  the 
hope  of  getting  some  clue  to  Mrs.  Wakefield. 
Careful  search  was  made  of  the  vicinity  for  some 
sign  of  her  presence  at  the  tragedy;  but  none 
was  found,  and  the  party  separated.  Tex  was 
to  ride  on  to  the  Flat,  comfort  the  women  to  the 
best  of  his  ability,  but  under  no  circumstances 
to  reveal  the  facts,  or  give  any  information  that 
would  start  scandal's  tongue.  Hanchett  and 
Mike  would  stay  at  the  inn  until  Ranee  and 
Wakefield  returned,  or  sent  word  of  their  suc- 
cess; and  with  this  understanding  the  party 
separated. 

"I  see  it  all,"  said  Wakefield.  "Don't  try  to 
deceive  me.  Unhappy  woman,  the  temptation 
was  too  great,  and  I  am  much  to  blame.  I  am 
grateful,  if  no  harm  has  come  to  her,  that  she 
has  only  grazed  the  precipice  and  not  fallen  over. 
Think  of  the  disgrace  to  Dot!  You  will  tell  her 
as  little  as  possible,  Ranee,  won't  you?"  and  the 
sorely  afflicted  man  looked  appealingly  at  his 
comrade. 

"  I  '11  tell  her  nothing,  old  man,"  replied  Ranee. 
"Why  should  she  be  made  to  suffer?  That  is, 
if  we  can  find  your  wife  and  nothing  more  seri- 

[293] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

ous  than  we  know  of  has  happened  to  her.  I 
have  a  presentiment  that  we  will  locate  her  down 
at  one  of  the  river  camps.  The  chances  are  that 
she  escaped  and  rode  down  the  trail  while  the 
assassins  were  robbing  their  victim.  Let  us  hurry 
on;  and  keep  up  your  courage,  Wakefield, —  it 
will  turn  out  all  right,"  and  he  put  spurs  to  his 
horse  and  loped  away  down  the  slope. 

They  had  ridden  in  silence  for  a  mile  or  more 
and  had  reached  the  plateau  above  the  stream 
where  the  chaparral  ceased  and  the  mountain 
sloped  off  gently  to  the  river,  when  Ranee  spied 
a  woman  crouched  under  a  pine  tree  a  hundred 
yards  from  the  path,  and  silently  motioning  to 
Wakefield  to  follow,  he  was  by  her  side  in  a 
moment. 

One  glance  showed  it  was  the  one  for  whom 
they  were  searching.  Wakefield  sprang  to  her 
side  as  she  arose  and  staggered  toward  him,  and 
his  stout  arms  supported  her  as  she  gave  a  sob 
and  fell  fainting  on  his  breast.  She  was  a  pitiable 
sight,  hollow-eyed  and  tear-stained,  hands  and 
face  scratched  and  bleeding,  hair  fallen  down, 
dress  torn  and  disarranged;  there  was  every  evi- 
dence of  some  terrible  experience  which  had  come 
to  her  in  her  flight.  A  great  pity  welled  up  in 

[294] 


FINDING     THE     LOST     SHEEP 

Wakefield's  heart  as  she  lay  helpless  and  uncon- 
scious in  his  arms,  and  a  boundless  gratitude  that 
she  was  alive. 

A  stream  of  water  trickled  down  a  little  ravine 
close  by;  to  this  they  carried  her  and  bathed  her 
face,  and  were  rewarded  by  her  return  to  con- 
sciousness. Slowly  she  gathered  in  her  mind  the 
experience  of  the  hours  since  she  had  fled  from 
the  Flat,  her  compunctions  and  regrets,  her  reso- 
lution to  return,  and  the  dominance  over  her  will 
by  her  companion;  and  as  she  realized  that  her 
husband  had  knowledge  of  her  guilty  escapade, 
the  blood  suffused  her  face  and  she  shrank  away 
from  his  embrace,  remorseful  and  ashamed. 

Ranee  thoughtfully  retired  out  of  earshot  and 
there  remained  until  Wakefield  summoned  him 
back  and  the  wife  had  gathered  sufficient  com- 
posure to  give  a  somewhat  coherent  account  of 
the  tragedy  of  which  she  had  been  a  witness  and 
a  victim.  Without  dwelling  on  the  circumstances 
that  had  made  her  a  companion  of  Phillips  on 
the  trail,  she  related  that  they  were  riding  to- 
gether, and  that  when  they  reached  the  bench 
where  his  body  was  found,  without  warning  a 
shot  was  fired  from  the  bushes  and  he  tumbled 
from  the  saddle  without  a  cry.  Horrified  and 

[295] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

frightened  beyond  measure,  she  urged  her  horse 
down  the  trail,  but  was  overtaken  by  two  men, 
who  ordered  her  to  stop  and  led  her  back  to 
the  knoll.  Here  were  three  more,  one  holding  the 
horses,  among  which  was  the  victim's,  and  the 
other  two  rifling  the  dead  man's  clothes  and  ex- 
ploring the  saddle  bags. 

The  leader,  a  blond  giant  whom  she  afterward 
learned  was  no  other  than  the  notorious  Tom 
Bell,  roughly  inquired  who  she  was  and  where  she 
was  going  with  her  companion. 

"Brant  had  no  use  for  women,"  he  commented ; 
"you  must  have  been  a  newcomer  at  the  Flat. 
Damn  him,  I  'm  even  with  him ;  he  had  his  shot 
at  me  over  at  San  Juan  when  the  posse  struck 
my  trail  a  year  ago;  he  won't  volunteer  to  hunt 
highwaymen  any  more.  Say  it  was  Tom  Bell 
and  his  men,  and  that  a  gambler  more  or  less 
don't  matter." 

She  would  have  gladly  departed ;  but  the  men, 
two  villainous  whites  and  a  couple  of  Greasers, 
remonstrated. 

"Better  take  her  down  to  the  river  and  turn 
her  loose  there.  No  use  of  getting  them  at  our 
heels  too  soon." 

"All  right.     Fling  the  carrion  in  the  bushes 

[296] 


FINDING     THE     LOST     SHEEP 

and  come  along,"  he  ordered.  They  started  down 
the  trail,  leading  her  horse  by  the  bridle  until 
they  came  to  a  canyon  making  out  from  the  river. 
Into  this  they  turned,  an  almost  inaccessible  re- 
treat, and  there  they  forcibly  detained  her  until 
daylight,  when  they  departed,  leaving  her  to  find 
her  way  out  as  best  she  could. 

The  horrors  of  that  night  can  only  be  lightly 
touched  upon.  The  miserable  woman  would 
have  gladly  welcomed  death ;  but  this  was  denied 
her,  and  she  grew  faint  again  as  she  recalled  the 
experience  of  the  past  hours.  After  their  de- 
parture she  tottered  and  crawled  to  the  spot 
where  found.  She  remembered  little  more  until 
she  realized  that  she  was  in  her  husband's  arms. 

The  recital  over,  Wakefield  and  Ranee  con- 
sulted on  the  best  course  to  take;  at  all  hazards 
the  woman  was  to  be  shielded  as  much  as  pos- 
sible. It  was  finally  determined  that  Wakefield 
should  cross  the  river  with  his  wife,  follow  up 
Kanaka  Creek  to  the  Alleghany  Ridge,  and 
thence  with  all  despatch  to  The  City  of  Six,  seek- 
ing the  home  refuge;  Ranee  would  return  to  the 
Mountain  House,  inform  Mike,  Tex,  and  Han- 
chett  of  the  developments,  swear  secrecy  among 
themselves  as  to  the  woman's  part  in  the  adven- 

[297] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

ture,  get  to  the  Flat  quietly,  and  with  Mrs.  Ruth 
and  Dot  leave  for  their  own  camp  without  delay. 

Fortunately,  so  far  as  known,  no  one  was 
aware  of  Mrs.  Wakefield's  departure  with  Phil- 
lips, except  the  landlady,  and  it  was  believed 
that  the  facts  could  be  kept  secret.  The  murder 
of  the  gambler  would  not  create  much  of  a  sen- 
sation; it  was  only  another  crime  added  to  Tom 
Bell's  record;  and  to  those  who  knew  the  true 
state  of  affairs  his  removal  was  a  timely  and 
special  providence. 

Ranee,  on  reaching  the  inn,  said  nothing  as 
to  Mrs.  Wakefield's  part  beyond  relating  that 
she  had  fled  when  the  shot  was  fired  and  escaped 
to  the  settlement  on  the  river  where  they  found 
her. 

Hanchett  took  it  upon  himself  to  keep  the  mat- 
ter as  quiet  as  possible.  The  usual  inquest  was 
held  over  the  gambler's  remains,  a  verdict  of 
"robbed  and  murdered  by  Tom  Bell  and  gang" 
arrived  at;  and  beyond  current  comment  among 
his  kind  the  incident  closed,  and  Brant  Phillips 
lay  in  his  unhonored  grave. 

What  transpired  between  Wakefield  and  his 
wife  on  that  sad  journey  back  to  The  City  of  Six 
did  not  come  to  light.  The  man  never  alluded 


FINDING     THE     LOST     SHEEP 

to  it  to  Ranee,  or  any  one  else,  and  whether  he 
forgave  or  not  remained  a  secret.  The  wretched 
woman  was  both  mentally  and  physically  a  wreck, 
and  for  many  days  hovered  between  life  and 
death.  Dot  took  upon  herself  the  duty  of  nurse,  a 
task  she  most  faithfully  and  lovingly  performed. 
Mrs.  Ruth  gladly  would  have  shared  it  with  her, 
but  both  man  and  wife  absolutely  declined,  and 
insisted  that  the  misfortune  should  in  no  way 
interfere  with  the  plans  of  Tex  and  Ruth. 
Ranee  fathomed  this  reluctance  and  advised  his 
comrade  to  start  out  on  his  quest  for  the  hacienda 
which  he  had  coveted  in  his  daydreams,  promising 
that  as  soon  as  the  patient  had  recovered  suffi- 
ciently and  the  cattle  ranch  had  become  a  reality, 
the  party  as  originally  intended  would  make  their 
visit  to  the  coast  lands  and  accept  the  hospitality 
of  their  old  comrade.  If  Mrs.  Ruth  did  remark 
to  her  lord  that  "no  good  ever  came  of  gallivant- 
ing around  the  country  with  scandalous  char- 
acters" (forgetting  that  she  had  not  only  toler- 
ated the  gambler  but  had  held  him  up  to  Tex's 
eyes  as  worthy  of  imitation),  it  was  only 
because  she  felt  annoyed  that  her  volunteered 
assistance  had  been  declined.  Good  soul,  she  was 
all  charity,  and  gladly  would  have  sacrificed  her 

[299] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

own  comfort  if  allowed.  A  week  later,  they  left 
for  San  Francisco  and  regretfully  turned  away 
from  the  little  camp  that  had  seen  the  beginning 
and  culmination  of  their  romance. 

Of  course,  her  mother's  illness  necessarily  in- 
terfered with  Dot's  marriage. 

"I  can't  leave  her,  can  I,  Ranee?  And  you 
will  wait,  won't  you?"  shyly  but  confidently  she 
asked  her  lover.  And  the  gallant  swain,  protest- 
ing that  it  was  a  hardship  —  that  was  not  to  be 
denied  —  agreed  to  bide  the  time  patiently,  pro- 
vided that  it  should  not  be  too  prolonged  a  wait 
and  that  the  patient  did  not  monopolize  all  of 
her  hours.  So  it  came  about  that  the  porch  had 
another  occupant,  and  Ranee's  visit  to  his  old 
home  was  postponed  until  the  fates  became  more 
propitious. 

Rather  strangely,  as  both  Mike  and  Ranee 
thought,  the  happening  seemed  not  to  have 
affected  Wakefield  very  deeply.  A  squaw  who 
had  taken  kindly  to  Ruth's  tuition  and  had  ab- 
sorbed a  little  civilization  in  the  performance  of 
household  duties,  was  installed  as  Dot's  assistant 
and  performed  the  household  drudgery,  encour- 
aged by  wage  and  fare  that  made  her  the  envy 
of  her  tribe ;  while  Tong,  the  Chinaman,  who  was 

[300] 


FINDING     THE     LOST     SHEEP 

now  the  recipient  of  that  anticipated  "one 
bundled  dolla  hap,"  to  which  he  had  aspired, 
took  upon  himself  the  preparation  of  various 
delicacies  for  the  household,  dishes  the  knowledge 
of  which  he  had  acquired  in  Ruth's  service  and 
which  he  faithfully  and  skilfully  imitated. 

"You  sabe  Missy  Luth?"  he  inquired  of  his 
chief  assistant.  "No,  you  no  belly  much  sabe 
Missy.  She  say,  'Tong,  why  you  no  Chlistian? 
You  good  man?'  I  say,  'What  fo'?  Spose  no 
shave  head,  have  clothes  all  same  Tex,  have  one 
joss,  what  good?  Melican  man  callee  me  damn 
Chinaman,  allee  same.'  She  say,  'Tong,  you 
heathen,' — she  talkee,  talkee  allee  day.  Chlis- 
tian woman  too  much  talkee,  but  I  no  likee  Missy 
go  way.  She  belly  good  woman.  Bimeby  she 
catchee  lanch,  maybe  I  go  too,"  and  Tong  shook 
his  head  sadly  and  went  about  his  duties  like 
one  forlorn.  He  had  become  accustomed  to 
Ruth's  flow  of  language  and  he  missed  it;  there 
was  an  oppressive  silence,  a  lack  of  the  spur,  a 
stillness  in  the  atmosphere  as  noticeable  as  the 
sudden  stop  of  a  mill,  or  the  hush  of  a  buzzing 
saw  checked  in  its  revolutions,  and  Tong  rebelled 
at  the  unaccustomed  quiet.  Besides,  he  was 
grateful  to  her,  for  she  had  rescued  him  from 

[301] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

abuse  and  contumely.  Under  her  protection  no 
one  had  dared  do  him  despite,  and  although  he 
betrayed  no  outward  emotion  on  her  leaving  and 
was  as  stolid  and  impassive  as  a  stone  image,  his 
assistant  was  forced  to  listen  to  a  long  eulogy 
of  her  virtues,  delivered  in  guttural  Chinese; 
and  privately  Tong  propitiated  the  heathen  gods 
and  burned  punk  and  written  prayers  in  sup- 
plication that  she  might  be  favored  by  all  the 
calendar  of  heathen  deities. 


[302] 


CHAPTER  XXV 

WAKEFIELD'S  PURPOSE  OF  REVENGE 

T  T  IS  comrades  were  in  error  as  to  Wakefield's 
supposed  apathy.  He  had  been  deeply 
wounded  by  his  wife's  inconstancy  and  stirred 
to  the  depths  by  the  tortures  and  indignities  she 
had  suffered.  He  granted  a  measure  of  pallia- 
tion for  the  former  as  being  himself  the  inciting, 
if  innocent,  cause;  his  strange  mental  affliction, 
he  reasoned,  being  the  root  and  foundation  of  her 
estrangement.  If  her  feet  had  strayed  into  for- 
bidden paths  and  her  love  waned,  that  might  be 
pardoned,  although  there  could  never,  he  reas- 
oned, come  a  renewal  of  the  old  ties, — in  that 
direction  he  believed  himself  implacable.  He  had 
neither  reproached  nor  pitied,  but  had  agreed 
to  shield  her  from  the  consequences  of  her  mad 
act  even  to  the  point  of  concealing  the  truth 
from  the  daughter.  In  fact,  he  was  more  than 
anxious  to  compass  the  latter  task.  Dot  in  her 
innocence  was  persuaded  that  her  mother,  per- 
haps imprudently  but  with  no  wrong  intent,  had 
accompanied  the  gambler  on  an  afternoon  ride, 

[303] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

and  that  both  would  have  returned  before  the 
night  fell  had  not  the  tragedy  intervened;  and 
that  the  shock  and  horror  of  being  an  unwilling 
witness  to  the  assassination  had  been  too  much 
of  a  nervous  strain,  resulting  in  prostrating  her. 
There  was  but  one  thing  to  do, —  nurse  her  back 
to  health;  then  all  would  be  well  again.  And 
there  were  compensations  for  Dot.  The  patient 
was  kept  under  the  influence  of  sedatives,  and 
there  were  many  precious  minutes  during  the  day 
when  she  could  be  left  to  slumber,  minutes  when, 
seeking  the  porch,  Dot  found  the  waiting  Ranee. 
Glorious  hours  they  were,  made  happier  by  con- 
fident youth  and  trusting  love  planning  life's 
pilgrimage  together;  a  future  serene  and  un- 
troubled; a  paradise  into  which  the  two  would 
enter  with  no  angel  with  flaming  sword  to  bar 
the  way.  Happy  daydreams  they  were,  and 
Ranee  was  careful  to  cast  no  doubting  shadow 
on  the  roseate  prospect. 

Wakefield,  who  had  taken  up  his  abode  in  the 
office  and  begun  in  earnest  sharing  the  super- 
vision of  the  mine  with  Mike,  visited  the  house 
daily  to  inquire  as  to  the  sick  woman's  condition, 
seemingly  anxious  to  learn  of  her  progress  toward 
recovery;  but  his  stay  was  brief  and  somewhat 

[304] 


A    PURPOSE     OF     REVENGE 

perfunctory,  although  he  was  always  pleased 
to  hear  of  her  improvement.  At  the  end  of  a 
month  she  had  regained  sufficient  strength  to  be 
pronounced  out  of  danger ;  when  satisfied  of  this 
he  had  a  confidential  talk  with  Ranee,  in  which, 
much  to  the  latter's  surprise,  he  announced  his 
determination  to  wreak  revenge  on  the  murder- 
ous gang  responsible  for  her  wrongs. 

"I  can  never  rest  easy,"  he  insisted,  "so  long 
as  they  cumber  the  earth.  It  is  not  a  question 
of  bringing  them  to  j  ustice ;  I  am  possessed  with 
the  desire  to  exterminate  them  —  the  thought  of 
their  living  keeps  me  at  fever  heat.  I  have  a 
lust  for  revenge,  and  until  it  is  satisfied  I  cannot 
have  a  moment  of  content. 

"No,  Ranee,"  he  continued,  in  reply  to  his 
comrade's  expostulations,  "it  may  be  a  mania, 
but  you  need  not  fear  for  my  reason.  I  have 
concluded  that  it  is  my  duty  to  mete  out  to  them 
the  punishment  which  you  will  not  dispute  they 
deserve.  Now  that  my  wife  has  regained  her 
health,  or  is  in  a  fair  way  to  do  so,  I  can  safely 
commit  her  to  your  and  Dot's  care,  and  leave 
you  all  for  a  time.  If  I  don't  come  back,  what 
difference?  Perhaps  it  would  be  better.  Ranee," 
—  and  Wakefield  was  fairly  overcome  by  emo- 

[305] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

tion, —  "I  could  not  love  you  more  if  you  were 
my  own  son;  and  what  little  happiness  is  left 
for  me  is  the  knowledge  that  Dot  is  to  become 
your  wife.  You  are  sure  that  this  thing  has 
made  no  difference  in  your  feelings  toward  her?" 
and  he  looked  wistfully  at  Ranee  for  confirma- 
tion of  his  hopes. 

Ranee  indignantly  repudiated  the  possibility 
of  any  change  in  the  state  of  his  affections  and 
renewed  his  efforts  to  dissuade  his  partner  from 
what  he  pronounced  a  mad  project. 

"What  can  you  do  single-handed  against  such 
a  gang  of  murderous  villains?"  he  pleaded. 
"Why  not  abandon  them  to  the  inevitable  fate 
that  will  overtake  them?  They  run  their  race, 
and  in  the  end  perish  like  dogs.  Let  us  leave 
the  mine  to  Mike  —  that  will  be  no  hardship  to 
him,  although  he  is  delighted  to  think  that  you 
are  coming  back  to  share  the  responsibility  of 
managing  it,  and  we  will  indulge  in  a  holiday. 
We  are  rich  enough  to  afford  it.  Take  your 
wife  and  go  with  Dot  and  me  to  the  South. 
It  will  be  well  to  leave  The  City  of  Six,  for  a 
time  at  least,  and  forget  the  incidents  of  the 
past  month  or  two." 

Wakefield  shook  his  head  negatively.     "No, 

[306] 


A    PURPOSE     OF     REVENGE 

Ranee,  it  is  impossible.  Happily,  Dot  knows 
nothing  of  the  truth,  and  why  need  she?  Why 
bring  this  misery  into  her  young  life  when  she 
can  be  spared?  Hurry  up  the  marriage  and 
take  her  away  from  here.  Make  your  visit  to 
your  old  home  and  leave  me  to  my  devices." 

"Why  include  in  your  programme  so  perilous 
a  mission  as  the  extermination  of  Bell's  gang?" 
questioned  Ranee.  "As  between  yourself  and 
wife  I  have  nothing  to  say.  The  dog  of  a 
gambler  is  dead,  and  my  only  regret  is  that  I 
did  not  have  the  chance  of  killing  him.  That 
was  Mike's  and  my  errand  when  we  started  in 
pursuit.  Why  not  let  that  end  the  tragedy?" 

"I  really  don't  know,  Ranee,"  replied  Wake- 
field.  "I  have  been  in  a  mental  hell  for  the 
past  month,  as  you  can  well  understand,  and 
it  has  come  to  me  that  it  would  be  a  relief  to 
hunt  down  the  hounds, —  a  pursuit  that  will  at 
least  change  the  scene,  a  distraction,  a  recreation ; 
anything  that  will  divert  my  mind  from  its 
present  state.  If  all  goes  well,  I  will  in  time 
get  back  here;  if  not,  well,  that  will  be  the  end 
of  trouble." 

Ranee  could  only  acquiesce.  The  situation 
was  a  delicate  and  complicated  one,  and  he  did 

[307] 


THE       CITY       OF        SIX 

not  see  his  own  way  out  clearly.  He  sympa- 
thized to  some  extent  with  Wakefield  in  his 
resentment  toward  his  wife;  and  yet  for  Dot's 
sake  she  must  be  considered.  Besides,  he  was 
impatient  and  longed  to  hasten  the  time  that 
would  make  Dot  his  own,  and  the  woman  was 
an  obstacle.  Would  Dot  consent  to  a  separation 
from  her  mother?  And  if  not,  could  he  submit 
to  her  companionship?  He  pitied  the  stricken 
woman;  her  sin  had  been  without  excuse,  her 
punishment  swift ;  he  had  his  own  chivalric  ideas 
of  honor  and  faith,  and  perhaps  like  Wakefield 
he  could  not  have  easily  forgiven.  It  was  a 
problem  that  he  would  necessarily  have  to  leave 
to  the  future  for  solution;  and  so,  grasping  his 
comrade's  hand  in  a  grip  of  affection,  he  ceased 
to  argue  and  left  it  to  the  future  to  unravel  the 
tangle. 


[308] 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

DOT'S  MARRIAGE  AND  OTHER  MATTERS 


ri^HE  season  had  been  a  late  one,  and  although 
it  was  the  middle  of  December  and  there 
had  come  an  occasional  flurry  of  snow,  the 
ground  was  still  bare  and  the  way  to  the  valley 
lay  unimpeded.  At  the  mine  operations  con- 
tinued on  the  same  large  scale  and  with  as  profit- 
able results  as  at  any  time  in  its  history;  but 
Mike,  talking  confidentially  with  his  two  part- 
ners, said, 

"I  have  me  doubts  if  it  will  hould  out  for 
another  sason.  The  channel  is  running  along 
the  base  of  the  mountain  instead  of  into  it;  and 
if  it  don't  take  a  turn  it  will  chop  off  at  Hog 
Canyon,  and  there  we  will  lose  it.  The  rist  of 
it  has  been  cut  away  for  half  a  mile  and  gone 
down  into  the  river.  No  wonder  the  bed  of  the 
river  below  is  richer  than  mud  ;  the  goold  in  those 
claims  was  a  contribution  from  the  ancient 
strame  that  run  through  our  purty  camp  in 
the  days  before  Ireland  was  known  to  the 
geographers. 

[309] 


THE       CITY       OF        SIX 

"Ah,  well,"  he  philosophized,  "a  foine  slice 
of  it  was  left,  enough  to  make  us  all  comfortable, 
to  say  the  laste.  What  is  this  I  hear  about  your 
going  away?  Bad  cess  to  you  all,  laving  me  a 
lonely  man  for  the  winter.  I  wouldn't  mind  it 
if  Wakefield  was  to  stay,  for  that  would  be  one 
responsible  person  to  kape  me  company;  but 
what  wid  Tex  getting  married,  taking  away  the 
cook,  and  getting  the  cattle  fever,  and  Ranee 
there  of  no  account  whativer,  I  am  as  ye  might 
say,  'without  resoorces.'  I'll  be  going  for  a 
change  mesilf.  I'm  feeling  the  necessity  for  a 
little  laisure ;  it 's  to  the  valley  I  '11  go  and  hunt 
me  up  a  farm ;  and  it 's  pigs  I  '11  raise, —  they  're 
more  sociable  than  cattle;  and  in  the  manetime, 
until  I  am  comfortably  settled,  it 's  a  new  man- 
ager ye  can  have  for  the  choosing." 

Of  course,  Mike  did  not  mean  it,  although 
he  was  disgruntled  over  the  prospect  of  being 
left  alone  by  his  comrades;  but  his  occupation 
was  too  congenial  to  be  abandoned,  and  his 
remonstrance  was  more  banter  than  earnestness. 

Wakefield  assured  him  that  his  absence  would 
be  a  temporary  one,  Mike  surmising  that  it  was 
a  visit  to  the  city  to  be  present  at  his  daughter's 
marriage.  He  had  no  inkling  of  the  real  pur- 

[310J 


DOT'S         MARRIAGE 

pose  of  the  journey  and  the  prospect  of  Wake- 
field's  early  return  was  reassuring. 

"Ranee,  me  bye,"  he  continued,  "I  envy  ye. 
Ye 're  taking  away  the  sweetest  flower  in  the 
mountains,  although  I'm  not  saying  ye  don't 
desarve  her;  and  I'm  thinking  there'll  be  no 
finer  couple  anywhere.  It's  a  favor  that  I  do 
be  asking.  There  will  be  a  draft  for  a  thousand 
dollars  in  your  name  at  Adams  &  Company's 
Bank  whin  you  rache  the  city,  and  ye  're  to  buy 
the  finest  pair  of  stones  ye  can  get  for  the  money, 
rale  diamonds,  and  big  ones,  for  to  hang  in  her 
little  ears.  Tell  her  they're  Mike's  prisint,  and 
the  blessing  of  Hiven  be  on  both  of  yez." 

He  was  not  to  be  gainsaid,  this  tried  and  true 
comrade,  to  whose  loyalty,  skill,  and  devotion 
they  were  so  much  indebted  for  their  prosperity. 
There  was  but  little  said  in  reply — men  of  their 
stamp  seldom  indulge  in  the  visible  emotions, — 
but  there  came  to  them  a  realization  of  the 
depth  and  enduring  bond  of  that  old  tie  of 
"partners,"  that  affection  founded  on  and  ce- 
mented by  comradeship  through  good  and  evil, 
closer  than  that  of  brothers,  and  of  which  there 
were  so  many  notable  examples  in  the  good  old 
days. 

[311] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

"And  it 's  another  warning  I  '11  give  ye.  What 
with  the  example  ye 're  setting  me,  I'm  feeling 
a  yearning  for  the  married  state  mesilf .  There 's 
a  purty  widdy  at  Downieville,  so  I  'm  told,  who 
is  looking  for  the  right  sort  of  a  man.  It's 
a-coorting  I  '11  go,  and  maybe  it 's  a  Mrs. 
Donovan  that  will  greet  ye  when  ye  get  back 
to  The  City  of  Six." 

They  smiled  at  Mike's  joking,  but  he  spoke 
with  prophetic  tongue,  although  its  realization 
did  not  come  for  some  years.  At  a  world-famous 
mining  camp,  when  as  a  millionaire  he  had  at- 
tained his  capitalistic  ambition,  he  met  the  widow 
and  married  her;  and  in  after  years,  when  his 
name  was  on  all  lips  as  the  foremost  mining 
operator  in  the  world,  his  wife  queened  it  royally 
abroad.  The  name  of  Donovan  soared  to  social 
heights  that  amazed  and  confounded  the  genial 
Irishman. 

It  was  fully  settled  that  Wakefield  and  his 
wife  and  daughter  and  Ranee  would  depart  with- 
out delay  for  San  Francisco,  where  the  marriage 
was  to  take  place  on  their  arrival,  and  future 
plans  be  determined  upon. 

Whatever  had  passed  between  Wakefield  and 
his  wife,  it  was  evident  to  Ranee  that  they  had 

[312] 


DOT       S         MARRIAGE 

arrived  at  a  mutual  understanding  and  that  the 
agreement  included  a  compact  to  keep  from  the 
daughter  any  knowledge  of  her  mother's  mis- 
fortunes. She  was  a  high-spirited,  conscientious 
girl,  and  it  was  felt  that  if  she  knew  the  true 
situation  she  would  refuse  to  come  to  Ranee  with 
a  smirched  name,  although  not  responsible  for 
the  blot.  It  would  have  been  a  difficult  matter 
to  have  carried  out  the  programme  had  the 
mother  rebelled,  but  Mrs.  Wakefield  had  evi- 
dently accepted  the  yoke  and  gave  no  sign  of  an 
unwillingness  to  bear  it.  Dot  was  at  times 
puzzled  over  the  attitude  of  her  parents  toward 
each  other  and  confided  her  bewilderment  to 
Ranee. 

"Why,  they  hardly  speak,"  she  said.  "Father 
is  as  silent  as  when  he  was  Shakespeare-mad, 
and  she  makes  no  attempt  to  arouse  him.  You 
don't  think,  dear,  that  he  is  losing  his  reason 
again,  do  you?"  —  her  eyes  filling  with  tears  — 
"  It  don't  seem  as  if  I  could  bear  that  again." 

Ranee  comforted  her  to  the  best  of  his  ability, 
assuring  her  that  there  was  no  danger  of  a  re- 
lapse, and  that  the  mood  would  wear  off  in  time 
when  the  recent  tragic  events  were  less  fresh  in 
their  memories. 

[313] 


"And  mother  —  you  know  she  had  planned  to 
go  with  us  on  our  wedding  trip,  and  now  she 
says  that  her  health  will  not  permit  her.  How 
can  I  leave  them  both?" 

This  latter  determination  was  news  to  Ranee, 
who,  while  pulling  a  long  face,  was  not  at  all 
cast  down  over  it.  -.^ 

"Don't  let's  worry,  Dot,  she  may  change  her 
mind,"  he  answered,  although  fervently  hoping 
that  she  would  not.  "Don't  I  count  for  some- 
thing? You  will  have  me,  and  that  may  help 
you  bear  the  separation." 

Dot  demurely  admitted  that  it  might,  and  she 
was  too  elated  and  possessed  with  her  happiness 
to  pay  much  attention  to  the  strained  parental 
relations  so  long  as  they  were  not  too  obvious. 
Ranee  dropped  a  warning  word  to  Wakefield 
which  brought  about  a  surface  change  in  his 
bearing,  to  the  delight  of  his  daughter  and  the 
relief  of  all  concerned. 

At  San  Francisco  they  were  met  by  Tex  and 
Ruth,  who  were  lingering  in  that  city,  enjoying 
a  delightful  honeymoon  after  their  own  fashion, 
although  Tex  confessed  to  Ranee  that  there  was 
"a  fly  in  the  honey." 


[314] 


DOT        S         MARRIAGE 

"Look  at  me,  pard,"  he  ruefully  remarked. 
"Did  you  ever  expect  to  see  me  like  this?" 

"Like  what?"  mirthfully  asked  Ranee. 

"Like  a  cross  between  a  faro  dealer  and  a 
Methodist  preacher.  I  could  stand  the  long- 
tailed  coat  and  the  tight  boots,  but  this  collar 
chokes  me.  I  'm  lacerated  under  the  chin.  I 
can't  see  where  I  put  my  feet;  it's  like  check- 
reining  a  tender-mouthed  mustang.  Say,  Ranee, 
she  bought  me  another  pair  of  kid  gloves  and  a 
plug  hat,  and  I  'm  damned  if  she  did  n't  persuade 
me  to  walk  down  Montgomery  Street  with  them 
on,"  and  Tex  sighed  over  his  accumulated  mis- 
eries. "I've  promised  to  stand  it  until  after 
the  wedding;  but  don't  put  it  off,  Ranee;  I  sure 
can't  bear  it  much  longer.  Here  she  comes 
now ;  don't  you  let  on  I  've  been  complaining.  I  '11 
jump  the  corral  and  take  to  the  plains  as  soon  as 
the  ceremony  is  over." 

It  was  a  cordial  reunion.  Ruth  was  delighted 
to  have  her  friends  with  her  again,  and  at  once 
took  Dot  under  her  care.  There  were  the  gor- 
geous shops  to  be  visited,  a  trousseau  to  be  pro- 
vided, fashions  to  be  discussed;  and  the  little 
body,  herself  transformed  by  her  own  happiness, 


[315] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

was  like  a  ray  of  sunshine  to  the  rest  of  the 
party. 

In  due  time  Dot  and  Ranee  were  wedded, 
and  the  new  chapter  in  their  lives  began. 

During  the  week  their  plans  crystallized  into 
action.  Mrs.  Wakefield  announced  that  her 
health  would  not  permit  her  to  accompany  the 
happy  pair  on  their  wedding  journey.  Ruth, 
who  knew  nothing  of  the  inner  motives  control- 
ling the  decision,  but  aware  that  the  mother  was 
averse  to  passing  the  winter  in  the  mountains, 
coaxed  her  to  remain  with  Tex  and  herself  until 
the  quest  of  the  cattle  ranch  was  successfully 
concluded.  Wakefield  announced  his  determina- 
tion to  return  to  the  mine  as  soon  as  his  daughter 
and  her  husband  had  sailed  away,  and  Tex  did 
not  try  to  delay  the  breaking  up  of  the  party. 
He  had  heard  of  a  Spanish  grant  in  one  of  the 
near-by  coast  range  valleys  that  could  be  bought ; 
he  saw  freedom  from  clothes  that  needed  brush- 
ing, and  hats  that  compressed  his  head  like  a 
tourniquet,  and  was  wild  to  escape  from  his 
sartorial  thraldom. 

There  were  tears  at  the  parting,  but  there 
were  smiles  through  the  tears. 

"Dear  old  Mike,  tell  him  we  will  all  be  back 

[316] 


DOT       S         MARRIAGE 

at  'Paradise'  in  the  spring  and  thank  him  for 
those  lovely  diamonds." 

Mike's  commission  had  been  carried  out  to 
the  surprise  and  appreciation  of  Dot.  Tex  had 
added  a  nugget  chain  —  ponderous,  massive,  and 
characteristic;  the  groom  overwhelmed  her  with 
a  fiery  ruby, —  a  deep-colored  flawless  gem  that 
flashed  and  burned  in  its  diamond  setting;  Ruth 
and  the  mother  had  ransacked  the  stores  for 
costly  fabrics,  and  the  father  gave  her  a  bank 
book  that  showed  a  deposit  in  her  name  of  five 
thousand  dollars,  "just  pin  money,"  he  said,  as 
he  drew  her  to  his  arms. 

"Be  good  to  Ranee,  dear,"  he  counselled  her, 
much  to  her  wonderment  —  why  should  she  be 
otherwise?  As  the  steamer  backed  out  into  the 
rippling  bay,  a  burden  rolled  off  his  mind,  and  it 
was  with  gratitude  and  thankfulness  that  at  least 
Dot  had  escaped  the  troubles  that  clouded  his  own 
life.  Perhaps  there  was  a  latent  feeling  of  ten- 
derness for  the  one  he  had  chosen  in  his  youth. 
She  had  sinned  in  intention  at  least,  and  he  in 
his  supposed  implacable  resentment  had  judged 
her  harshly.  In  the  future  there  might  be  ex- 
piation and  forgiveness.  The  impulse  was  strong 
upon  him  then  as  she  stood  listless,  watching 

[317] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

the  steamer,  that  bore  away  her  child,  pass  out 
of  sight  around  the  point,  to  take  his  wife  in  his 
arms.  If  the  place  had  been  more  propitious 
he  might  have  yielded;  but  the  wharf,  crowded 
with  curious  on-lookers,  restrained  him,  and  his 
heart  hardened  again. 

There  was  a  change,  however,  in  their  mutual 
attitude.  That  evening  they  came  together  in 
arranging  for  the  future.  Both  Tex  and  his 
wife  had  joined  in  persuading  her  to  pass  the 
winter  with  them  in  their  wanderings,  and  she 
had  in  her  loneliness  turned  to  Ruth  for  con- 
solation. She  was  drawn  to  the  bustling  little 
woman,  whose  cheerfulness  was  a  tonic,  whose 
vagaries  interested  her,  and  Wakefield  gave  a 
ready  consent,  arranging  at  his  bankers'  for  her 
independence  financially,  and  giving  thanks  to 
Ruth  for  her  kindly  acts. 

"Let  it  all  rest  until  the  spring,"  were  his 
parting  words  when  the  interview  was  over. 
"Perhaps  we  can  forget  it  by  that  time.  If 
you  went  back  with  me  to  the  old  camp  now 
you  would  only  brood  and  pine.  Have  a  good 
time  with  Tex  and  Ruth,  and  when  the  children 
return, —  well,  God  only  knows." 

If   he   had   noted   the   hungry   look   in   her 

[318] 


DOT        S         MARRIAGE 

eyes  he  might  not  have  been  so  sure  that  the 
mountains  did  not  invite  her;  but  he  was  tena- 
cious in  his  resolutions.  He  had,  in  his  rage,  got 
the  notion  into  his  head  that  justice  demanded 
vengeance  on  the  highwaymen  and  that  it  was 
he  who  should  mete  it  out,  and  he  could  not  put 
the  resolve  aside.  So  they  parted  with  a  little 
hope,  a  little  faith,  and  a  spark  of  the  old  affec- 
tion that  might  in  the  future  kindle  into  a  re- 
newed blaze. 


[319] 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

WAKEFIELD'S  PREPARATIONS  FOR  VENGEANCE 

Tj^OR  a  born  plodder  who  up  to  middle  age 
had  pursued  the  even  tenor  of  an  unevent- 
ful and  humdrum  existence,  and  who  did  not 
by  heritage  or  inclination  seem  likely  to  step  out 
of  the  beaten  path,  Wakefield  had  betrayed 
queer  tendencies.  There  was  a  mental  twist,  in- 
herited possibly  from  a  forgotten  ancestor,  that 
disturbed  the  placid  currents  and  created  erratic 
impulses  productive  of  actions  out  of  the  ordi- 
nary. While  he  was  played  upon  by  every  wind 
that  blew,  an  idea  or  mood  would  possess  him; 
once  it  took  hold,  he  held  to  it  stubbornly,  and 
however  wild  it  might  be,  he  never  swerved  until 
he  had  pursued  it  to  the  end.  No  one  of  his 
comrades  fathomed  the  depth  of  the  wound  in- 
flicted by  his  wife's  faithlessness,  or  knew  of  the 
silent  and  seemingly  impotent  rage  that  had 
overwhelmed  him  the  morning  that  he  had  found 
her  stricken  and  forlorn  on  the  bank  of  the 
river.  He  did  not  realize  that  it  was  not  his 
but  her  wrongs  that  wrung  his  heart.  It  did 

[320] 


PREPARATIONS  FOR  VENGEANCE 

not  dawn  upon  him  that  it  was  to  avenge  her 
and  not  himself  that  he  had  determined  upon  the 
extermination  of  the  highwaymen,  nor  did  it 
enter  his  mind  that  he  was  undertaking  a  task 
where  the  odds  were  heavily  against  him.  No, 
the  blood  lust  was  on  him;  he  would  match  cun- 
ning with  cunning,  his  life  against  theirs,  justice 
against  guilt,  and  with  no  doubt  of  his  success 
he  started  on  the  pursuit,  convinced  that  "thrice 
is  he  armed  that  hath  his  quarrel  just." 

It  was  with  care  that  he  selected  his  weapons  — 
a  double-barrel  shotgun  and  a  couple  of  Colt's 
revolvers  —  and  with  equal  foresight  purchased 
the  best  saddle  horse  that  money  could  buy,  a 
powerful,  clean-limbed  thoroughbred  endowed 
with  both  speed  and  stamina. 

Thus  equipped,  he  took  boat  for  Sacramento 
and  thence  to  Marysville,  at  which  latter  city 
he  expected  to  find  a  clue  that  would  lead  him 
to  Bell's  haunts.  The  sheriff  of  Yuba  County 
had  twice  headed  posses  in  pursuit  of  the  robber, 
for  whose  head  there  was  a  standing  reward  of 
five  thousand  dollars,  dead  or  alive,  and  been 
both  times  unsuccessful.  Not  discouraged,  he 
was  contemplating  another  and  was  awaiting 
certain  promised  information  that  he  believed 

[321] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

would  bring  the  third  attempt  to  a  successful 
conclusion.  Wakefield  learned  that  the  band 
had  for  a  month  past  been  operating  in  the  foot- 
hills of  Nevada  and  Yuba  Counties,  and  that 
subsequent  to  the  killing  of  Phillips  they  had 
raided  a  store  at  Cherokee  and  held  up  the 
Nevada  stage  at  Bear  River  Crossing,  the  latter 
exploit  but  a  week  previous. 

With  the  exception  of  Joaquin  Murieta,  Bell 
was  the  most  notorious  of  the  highwaymen  of 
the  early  days.  Born  in  Missouri,  he  came  across 
the  plains  in  '51  and  labored  for  a  brief  time 
in  the  mines  near  San  Juan,  Nevada  County; 
but  tiring  of  hard  work,  turned  to  gambling  in 
a  small  way.  He  was  not  much  of  a  success  in 
his  new  occupation,  and  finding  himself  one  day 
without  resources  he  resolved  to  take  to  the  road. 
Appropriating  the  best  horse  he  could  find,  he 
started  out  on  his  new  career.  Riding  down  the 
Marysville  road  to  the  old  Zinc  House,  a  noted 
wayside  tavern,  he  stopped  for  dinner,  putting 
his  horse  in  the  barn.  When  at  the  conclusion 
of  the  meal  he  started  to  leave,  the  landlady 
asked  him  what  he  was  doing  with  Nelson's 
animal.  Nelson  was  a  well-known  sporting  man 
of  Marysville,  and  it  was  his  mount  that  Bell 

[322] 


PREPARATIONS  FOR  VENGEANCE 

had  appropriated.  He  claimed  that  he  had 
bought  it;  but  the  landlady  was  sceptical,  said 
that  she  knew  Nelson  would  not  part  with  the 
beast,  and  intimated  that  he  would  not  be  allowed 
to  remove  it  from  the  corral  until  he  could  prove 
a  better  title  than  his  mere  word.  Fearing  im- 
mediate pursuit  and  seeing  that  the  woman  was 
backed  up  by  her  retainers,  he  compromised  to 
to  the  effect  that  he  would  let  the  horse  remain 
in  the  stable  until  such  time  as  its  ownership 
should  be  established  to  the  satisfaction  of  the 
lady,  he  to  remove  the  equipment  and  procure 
another  mount. 

Bell  confronted  a  dilemma.  A  saddle,  bridle, 
and  blankets  are  most  necessary  articles  when 
the  steed  goes  with  them,  but  to  this  man  plod- 
ding along  a  dusty  road  on  a  hot  summer  day 
they  were  encumbrances.  Consigning  the  sex 
to  perdition  for  its  propensity  to  meddle,  Bell 
had  about  decided  to  cache  the  trappings  until 
such  time  as  he  could  annex  another  piece  of 
horseflesh,  when  he  spied  a  team  trotting  down 
the  highway,  and  —  irony  of  fate  —  the  driver 
was  the  husband  of  the  woman  who  had  com- 
pelled his  horseless  tramp.  A  sharp  command 
to  halt,  a  brief  parley,  and  the  driver  found  him- 

[323] 


THE       CITY       OF        SIX 

self  unharnessing  under  duress  the  likeliest  one 
of  the  pair,  which  proved  to  be  an  excellent 
animal.  Without  opposition  on  the  part  of  the 
victim  the  horse  was  quickly  saddled.  Bell's 
revolver  discouraged  discussion;  and,  relieving 
the  driver  of  a  trifle  of  two  hundred  dollars, 
which  it  was  his  hard  luck  to  have  in  his 
pocket,  Tom  rode  away  after  requesting  the 
plucked  one  to  present  his  compliments  to  his 
wife,  say  to  her  that  a  fair  exchange  was  no 
robbery,  and  that  possibly  in  the  future  she 
might  be  less  inclined  to  arbitrate  property 
rights.  This  exploit  was  Bell's  initiative  as  a 
knight  of  the  road,  and  he  soon  by  his  daring 
and  audacity  became  famous,  or  rather  infamous. 
Crossing  over  to  French  Corral,  where  Bell 
had  mined  before  taking  to  the  highway,  Wake- 
field  lingered  around  the  vicinity  for  several 
days,  incidentally  striking  up  an  acquaintance 
with  Bell's  old  partner,  and  by  dint  of  judicious 
and  cautious  inquiry  he  became  satisfied  that 
the  rendezvous  of  the  gang  was  somewhere  in  the 
vicinity.  It  had  been  whispered  that  when  the 
hue  and  cry  was  on,  the  members  of  the  band, 
close  pressed  by  their  pursuers,  had  scattered  to 
avoid  capture;  that  Bell's  friend  had  provided  a 

[324] 


PREPARATIONS  FOR  VENGEANCE 

temporary  hiding-place  for  his  old  partner  in  an 
abandoned  tunnel,  where  a  sack  of  barley  for 
the  horse  and  a  pair  of  blankets  for  the  man 
made  it  a  fairly  secure  retreat  until  the  emer- 
gency passed.  He  also  learned  that  several 
times,  after  a  foray,  the  gang  had  been  seen 
crossing  the  ford  of  the  river  to  the  northern 
bank,  disappearing  in  the  chamizal  that  covered 
the  mountain-side.  Piecing  his  information  to- 
gether, Wakefield  was  persuaded  that  in  some 
one  of  the  steep  canyons  that  cut  the  flank  of 
the  slopes  there  was  a  camp  to  which  the  robbers 
retreated.  Following  out  this  idea,  he  left  his 
horse  at  the  little  town  and  started  out  on  a 
systematic  search,  beginning  at  the  ford.  Fol- 
lowing the  river  bank  for  a  mile  along  the  beaten 
trail  used  by  the  miners,  he  at  last  found  signs 
of  hoof -prints  turning  off  into  the  chaparral; 
these  he  followed  around  and  through  dense  man- 
zanita  thickets  to  where  they  terminated  in  a 
secluded  granite  canyon  about  half-way  up  the 
mountain.  There  were  a  couple  of  acres  of  bare 
ground  close  by,  and  there  horses  had  been 
tethered,  as  was  proved  by  several  old  stakes 
driven  into  the  ground  and  by  the  beaten-down 
earth  round  about.  Descending  into  the  canyon, 

[325] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

he  discovered  unmistakable  signs  of  a  camp,  the 
blackened  coals  and  ashes  of  an  old  fire,  empty 
cans  scattered  about,  and  near  a  spring  which 
trickled  from  the  rocks,  a  frying  pan  and  coffee- 
pot. Wakefield  was  certain  that  he  had  un- 
earthed their  retreat,  although  from  appearances 
no  one  had  been  near  the  place  for  some  time; 
but  he  reasoned  that  sooner  or  later  they  would 
return,  and  forming  his  plans  on  this  belief,  he 
decided  to  await  their  coming.  Climbing  up  the 
steep  wall  of  the  canyon  and  crawling  through 
the  interlacing  thorn  bushes  for  a  distance  of  a 
couple  of  hundred  yards,  he  came  up  against  a 
huge  boulder,  from  the  top  of  which  he  could 
overlook  and  see  into  the  bed  of  the  gorge  and 
the  robbers'  camp.  This  was  his  vantage  point, 
and  here  he  determined  to  stay  and  keep  his  vigil 
until  they  appeared.  He  had  first  to  provide 
himself  with  food  and  bedding,  and  concluded 
to  return  to  San  Juan,  some  five  miles  away, 
and  lay  in  his  supplies.  Instead  of  retracing 
his  footsteps,  with  infinite  difficulty  he  forced 
his  way  through  the  tangled  underbrush  until 
he  reached  the  top  of  the  ridge  and  clear  ground, 
marking  his  exit  by  stones  and  broken  limbs  of 
the  bushes  in  order  to  find  his  way  back. 

[326] 


PREPARATIONS  FOR  VENGEANCE 

At  San  Juan  he  outfitted  as  a  prospector, 
buying  a  burro  and  loading  it  with  provisions, 
blankets,  and  cooking  utensils,  so  common  an 
incident  that  no  suspicion  was  excited  of  any 
ulterior  intention.  He  consumed  all  the  next 
day  in  getting  the  pack  back  to  the  selected 
spot,  but  with  the  aid  of  a  hatchet  which  he  had 
added  to  the  outfit,  he  cut  the  way  for  a  passage, 
unloaded  the  burro,  and  turned  it  loose  to  provide 
for  itself.  Much  to  his  satisfaction,  he  found 
that  by  climbing  a  near-by  pine  he  could  bring 
the  ford  and  a  portion  of  the  river  trail  in  view, — 
a  fortunate  discovery,  as  by  keeping  fairly  close 
watch  he  was  enabled  to  build  a  small  fire  and 
do  his  cooking,  using  for  the  purpose  oak  limbs, 
which  gave  out  little  smoke,  and  the  fire  could 
be  extinguished  quickly  if  necessary. 

These  preliminaries  concluded,  he  settled  down 
quietly  to  watch  and  wait  until  the  quarry  should 
fall  into  his  hands. 

It  was  a  long  and  weary  wait,  and  by  a  man 
less  obstinate  would  have  been  abandoned  in  its 
early  stages.  For  two  weeks  he  maintained  his 
outlook,  sleeping  on  the  bare  ground,  cooking 
his  lonely  meals;  his  only  companions  were  the 
blue  jays  that  at  first  scolded  and  squawked 

[327] 


THE        CITY       OF       SIX 

over  his  intrusion,  a  prowling  coyote  who  sniffed 
at  his  camp  fire  and  stole  away  with  a  piece  of 
bacon,  a  pair  of  gray  squirrels  that  nested  and 
frolicked  in  the  branches  of  a  close-by  pine  tree, 
a  timid  hare,  pursued  by  a  red  fox,  which  almost 
ran  into  his  arms  and  stood  quivering  with  fear, 
frozen  into  a  statue  by  the  sudden  encounter. 
In  the  canyon  below,  the  piping  cock  quail  called 
to  the  covey,  and  a  dove  and  its  mate  "coo-cooed" 
their  sad  note  in  the  open  beyond.  The  solitary 
hours  passed  slowly,  and  with  only  his  own 
thoughts  for  company  Wakefield's  self-commun- 
ings  were  not  always  to  his  own  satisfaction. 
Fortune  in  the  way  of  material  things  had  come 
to  him  far  beyond  his  anticipations.  He  had 
found  the  golden  fleece,  but  it  seemed  as  if  he 
had  paid  a  heavy  price  for  it.  His  strange 
affliction,  the  estrangement  from  his  wife,  his 
mental  sufferings  since  his  recovery  —  were 
riches  a  compensation  for  these  trials  ?  And  then 
it  came  to  him  that  perhaps  he  was  not  mentally 
so  well  balanced  after  all.  Why  this  thirst  for 
bloody  vengeance,  this  lying  in  ambush  to  wreak 
his  hate  on  a  gang  of  assassins  who  could  be 
safely  left  to  the  law?  Their  kind  always 
reached  the  end  of  the  rope  ultimately.  And 

[328] 


PREPARATIONS  FOR  VENGEANCE 

then,  granting  that  as  judge  and  executioner  he 
succeeded,  cui  bono?  What  would  he  have  ac- 
complished? And  in  what  particular  would  he 
be  better  off?  Why  not  abandon  the  chase,  rid 
his  mind  of  these  follies,  join  Mike,  and  settle 
down  to  sober  work? 

His  heart  had  grown  tenderer  toward  his  wife, 
and  he  had  made  many  excuses  of  late  for  what 
at  first  he  had  looked  on  as  an  unpardonable 
offence,  but  which  had  softened  until  it  seemed 
an  error  for  which  she  had  been  already  too 
severely  punished.  Here  was  the  key  to  his  con- 
duct. He  burned  with  a  desire  to  exterminate 
the  wretches  who  had  injured  his  wife,  and 
it  was  the  latent  love  for  her  that  spurred 
him  on.  This  accomplished,  he  felt  he  could  go 
to  her  and  wipe  out  the  past  —  his  coldness,  his 
sternness,  the  sting  of  the  bitter  words  he  had 
heaped  upon  her  in  the  first  outburst  of  his  mor- 
tified self-conceit,  and  dropping  the  curtain  on 
the  twelve  months'  interlude  of  the  drama,  ring 
up  a  new  and  more  satisfactory  act. 


[329] 


CHAPTER   XXVIII 

iWAKEFIELD  EXTERMINATES  THE  GANG 

VITAKEFIELD  did  not  let  these  thoughts 
swerve  him  from  his  purpose,  and  one  day 
he  was  rewarded  by  a  confirmation  of  the  cor- 
rectness of  his  deductions,  the  persuasion  that  if 
he  tarried  long  enough  Bell  and  his  followers 
would  seek  the  rendezvous.  Many  parties  had 
crossed  the  ford  and  had  continued  on  over  the 
divide  toward  the  North  Fork,  a  prospector  now 
and  then  turned  down  the  river  path;  but  this 
afternoon  from  his  outlook  in  the  pine  tree  he 
noted  a  cavalcade  of  horsemen  who  splashed 
hastily  through  the  river,  took  the  trail  and  loped 
down  the  bank  toward  the  canyon.  Quickly' 
descending,  he  crept  to  the  boulder  and  shortly 
heard  the  crackling  in  the  thicket  demonstrating 
that  they  were  making  their  way  through  the 
chaparral.  A  lapse  of  a  few  minutes  and  the 
gang  emerged  into  the  open  space,  unsaddled 
the  horses,  staked  them  out  by  their  long  reatas, 
stripped  the  saddle  bags  from  the  saddles,  and 
made  for  the  old  camp  in  the  bed  of  the  canyon. 

[330] 


EXTERMINATING    THE    GANG 

No  doubt  entered  Wakefield's  mind  of  the  iden- 
tity of  the  robbers.  There  were  the  blonde 
Bell,  the  two  other  white  men,  and  the  couple 
of  Greasers  so  often  described  by  their  victims, 
delivered  into  his  hands,  as  he  believed;  but  — 
one  against  five  —  it  seemed  as  if  the  odds  were 
against  him.  This  did  not  trouble  him,  neither 
did  any  false  notions  of  fair  play.  They  were 
vermin  and  deserved  death;  that  was  his  mission 
and  he  had  no  scruples  in  the  matter.  There 
was  a  price  on  their  heads,  dead  or  alive,  and  the 
former  was  the  more  expedient. 

Creeping  cautiously  through  the  chamizal  until 
he  reached  a  foothold  on  a  ledge  of  rock  above 
them  and  some  forty  yards  distant,  he  rose  to 
his  feet,  levelled  his  shotgun,  and  blazed  away 
at  the  nearest,  one  of  the  Mexicans,  who  fell 
dead,  riddled  with  buckshot.  The  startled  high- 
waymen, taken  completely  unawares  and  believ- 
ing that  they  were  ambushed  by  a  posse,  fled 
toward  the  spot  where  their  horses  were  tethered. 
As  they  climbed  the  bank  the  second  barrel  laid 
low  one  of  the  whites,  who  fell  forward  on  his 
face,  convulsively  grasped  at  the  tufts  of  grass, 
relaxed,  and  rolled  back  dead  into  the  canyon. 
Drawing  a  revolver,  he  sped  a  bullet  after  the  re- 

[331] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

treating  trio,  keeping  up  a  fusillade  until  they 
gained  the  top  of  the  bank  and  ran  with  flying  feet 
toward  where  their  animals  were  staked.  One,  the 
remaining  Mexican,  was  winged,  fell,  rose,  fell 
again,  and  scrambled  on  hands  and  knees  to  the 
cover  of  the  thicket,  into  which  he  crawled  and 
disappeared  from  view. 

Before  Wakefield  could  descend  from  his  point 
of  vantage  and  reach  the  opposite  bank,  Bell  and 
his  comrade  had  wrenched  the  reatas  from  the 
stakes,  mounted  bareback,  dashed  off  down  the 
trail,  and  were  soon  safe  from  immediate  pursuit. 
Thus  ended  the  battle,  if  it  could  be  so  called. 
It  was  a  surprise  and  a  rout,  and  Wakefield's 
vengeance  was  partially  gratified.  A  brief 
search,  and  he  found  that  the  Mexican  who  had 
been  shot  through  the  hip  was  helpless  and  in  a 
fair  way  to  bleed  to  death  from  the  wound. 
With  an  indifference  to  his  fate  that  was  almost 
satanic,  Wakefield  disarmed  the  victim,  strug- 
gled with  the  temptation  to  blow  the  fellow's 
head  off,  but  not  being  quite  equal  to  this  cold- 
blooded finale,  turned  back  to  the  camp  and 
gathered  together  the  plunder.  From  the  weight 
of  the  saddle  bags  he  was  persuaded  that  they 


[332] 


"  Drawing  a  revolver,  he  sped  a  bullet  after  the  retreating  trio." 


EXTERMINATING    THE    GANG 

contained  more  or  less  gold ;  this  proved  true,  an 
examination  of  the  contents  revealing  coin  and 
a  large  quantity  of  gold  dust.  Besides,  there 
were  a  couple  of  bottles  of  whiskey,  bread,  cooked 
meat,  ammunition,  and  other  articles.  It  was 
evident  that  the  robbers  intended  to  camp  in  the 
canyon  over  night  and  then  depart,  and  this 
was  confirmed  by  the  Mexican,  who  afterwards 
confessed  that  they  had  ended  their  fall  cam- 
paign, had  proceeded  to  the  spot  to  divide  the 
spoils,  when  they  were  to  separate,  make  their 
way  to  the  valley,  and  meet  at  Sacramento  a 
week  or  two  later;  that  is,  all  except  Bell,  who 
had  a  place  of  retreat  unknown  to  his  compan- 
ions, where  he  proposed  to  tarry  until  inclination 
prompted  him  to  renew  his  depredations. 

Now  came  the  question  as  to  further  action. 
Obviously,  it  was  his  duty  to  inform  the  author- 
ities and  deliver  to  them  the  spoils.  His  action 
needed  no  justification;  on  the  contrary,  he  would 
receive  the  plaudits  of  the  community  for  his 
daring  exploit  in  ridding  them  of  the  scoundrels 
who  had  terrorized  the  foothills;  yet  he  was  not 
satisfied  with  the  outcome.  The  chief  offender 
had  for  the  time  escaped;  and  this  left  his  self- 


[333] 


THE       CITY       OF       SIX 

imposed  task  unfinished  and  more  difficult  to 
accomplish,  as  the  fellow  would  undoubtedly 
take  alarm  and  flee  the  country. 

However,  there  was  no  help  for  it,  and  he 
made  preparations  to  leave.  He  threw  the  sad- 
dle blankets  over  the  corpses,  and  propped  the 
wounded  Greaser  against  a  tree,  promising  to 
send  relief  from  the  nearest  camp,  at  the  same 
time  stanching  the  wound  in  a  rude  way.  The 
man  begged  piteously  not  to  be  left  alone,  or  at 
least  defenceless,  and  Wakefield  was  persuaded 
to  give  him  one  of  the  revolvers,  keeping  a  sharp 
watch  to  see  that  he  took  no  treacherous  ad- 
vantage of  the  concession.  Before  doing  this  he 
had  packed  the  saddle  bags  on  one  of  the  horses 
and  saddled  another  for  his  own  use,  driving  the 
third  before  him  down  to  the  river.  He  had 
decided  to  ride  to  Marysville  —  the  county-seat 
and  some  twenty  miles  distant, —  find  the  sheriff, 
tell  his  story,  and  deliver  to  the  official  the  plun- 
der. It  was  twilight  by  the  time  he  had  regained 
the  river  trail,  dark  before  he  had  got  well  started 
on  his  journey;  his  progress  was  slow  over  the 
rough  country  until  the  plains  were  reached, 
and  it  was  daylight  before  he  arrived  at  his 
destination. 

[334] 


EXTERMINATING    THE    GANG 

Rousing  the  sheriff  from  his  early  morning 
sleep,  he  told  his  tale,  to  which  that  official 
listened  in  open-mouthed  wonder  and  an  in- 
credulity that  was  only  dispelled  by  the  evidence 
of  the  bulging  saddle  bags. 

"So  you  were  after  the  gang  when  you  were 
pumping  me  here  a  while  ago?"  he  inquired, 
which  fact  Wakefield  acknowledged. 

"Why  were  you  so  eager  to  run  them  down?" 
he  continued.  "Of  course,  there  is  the  reward, 
five  thousand  for  Bell  and  two  thousand  apiece 
for  the  others;  but,  man,  there  is  that  much  in 
the  saddle  bags,  and  no  one  would  have  been  the 
wiser  if  you  had  not  turned  it  over  to  me.  Now," 
he  regretfully  added,  "it  will  have  to  be  deposited 
•with  the  courts  and  the  public  administrator, 
and  I  reckon  there  won't  be  much  left  after  it 
is  administered  upon.  You  are  a  good  one,  to 
tackle  that  crowd  alone!  I'm  no  coward,  but 
I  don't  believe  I  would  have  undertaken  the 
job.  You  must  have  had  some  pretty  strong 
motive.  What  was  it?" 

Wakefield  flushed  at  the  question,  hesitated, 
but  recognized  in  the  bluff  official  a  man  in  whom 
he  could  confide.  Asking  that  as  little  notoriety 
be  given  as  possible,  he  took  the  sheriff  into  his 

[335] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

confidence  and  briefly  told  him  the  facts  of  the 
killing  of  the  gambler  and  the  indignity  inflicted 
on  his  wife,  at  the  same  time  renouncing  any 
interest  in  the  blood  money,  or  a  share  in  the 
recaptured  plunder. 

The  listener  at  once  comprehended  the  motives 
that  had  urged  him  on  in  his  unrelenting  hunt. 

"By  God,  you're  a  man  after  my  own  heart," 
he  exclaimed,  "and  I'm  proud  to  know  you. 
There  is  nobody  need  know  the  inside  of  this 
but  you  and  me.  I  '11  send  up  a  deputy  to  look 
after  the  wounded  Greaser  and  fetch  him  here 
if  he's  alive.  We  will  let  the  other  carrion  rot, 
after  we  have  identified  them.  We  may  as  well 
gather  in  the  reward ;  if  you  don't  want  it,  I  'm 
not  so  squeamish  as  you  are,  and  it  will  help  get 
back  some  of  the  money  that  I  have  spent 
trying  to  run  them  down.  But  say,  you're 
a  white  man,  if  I  ever  met  one,  and  you  have 
acted  so  square,  I  don't  mind  letting  you  into 
a  secret.  I  would  have  had  Bell  in  a  few  days 
anyhow.  Y,ou  say  he  rode  off  bareback.  I  think 
I  can  put  my  hands  on  him  now;  I  know  the 
hole  he  has  run  to  for  safety,  and  it 's  not  many 
miles  from  here.  I'll  bet  I  get  word  in  the 
next  twenty-four  hours." 

[336] 


EXTERMINATING    THE    GANG 

It  was  Wakefield's  turn  to  be  astonished,  and 
he  asked  for  an  explanation. 

"Let's  go  over  to  the  Magnolia  and  get  a 
cocktail, —  I  haven't  had  a  morning  bracer, — 
then  we  will  have  breakfast,  go  back  to  the  office, 
finish  the  business  of  turning  over  the  money, 
and  then  you  had  better  take  a  rest.  Your 
nerves  ought  to  be  a  little  jarred  after  all  this. 
I  think  by  the  time  you  have  slept  a  few  hours 
I  may  have  some  more  news.  I  don't  suppose 
you  will  mind  to  be  in  at  the  finish,  and  that 
means  capturing  Bell  or  killing  him;  I  'm  betting 
that  he  will  die  with  his  boots  on." 

Wakefield  consented  to  take  the  needed  rest, 
only  exactly  a  promise  that  he  should  be  a  party 
to  the  final  rounding  up.  He  then  followed 
the  programme  outlined  by  the  sheriff,  including 
the  cocktail  and  the  breakfast,  and  retired  to  the 
hotel  and  a  room.  A  sound  and  peaceful  sleep 
restored  his  nerves  and  drove  away  the  fatigue 
incidental  to  his  strenuous  achievement. 

It  was  late  in  the  afternoon  when  he  awoke 
and  descended  to  the  office,  where  he  was  at  once 
the  centre  of  a  group  of  curious  admirers  who 
were  anxious  to  meet  the  hero  who,  single-handed, 
had  "busted"  Tom  Bell's  gang.  The  notoriety 

[337] 


THE       CITY        OF       SIX 

was  distasteful,  and  he  was  glad  when  the  sheriff 
came  and  invited  him  over  to  his  office.  When 
they  had  reached  it  and  barred  the  door  against 
intruders,  that  official  exclaimed, 

"It's  turned  out  as  I  expected.  We've  got 
him  holed,  and  unless  there  is  a  slip-up  I  '11  have 
him  in  jail  by  noon  to-morrow.  I  promised  to 
tell  you  how  it  came  about,  and  here  goes.  Of 
course,  there's  a  woman  in  it, — there  always  is, 
for  good  or  bad.  This  one  is  the  landlady  of  the 
Ohio  House  and  ranch  down  on  the  Feather 
River.  Bell  got  stuck  on  her  a  couple  of  years 
ago,  and  she  has  harbored  him  ever  since.  He  has 
given  her  the  results  of  all  his  robberies,  sent 
her  two  daughters  to  a  seminary  in  San  Fran- 
cisco, provided  for  their  education,  and  planned 
when  he  had  got  enough  coin  gathered  in  to  make 
them  independent,  to  leave  the  country  with  the 
family,  go  back  to  Missouri,  and  lead  a  respect- 
able life.  Nice  programme,  ain't  it?  But  he 
won't  go  back.  She  has  got  the  money,  all  right ; 
the  fool  thinks  she  is  as  badly  gone  on  him  as 
he  on  her,  and  she 's  tired  of  him.  So  a  month 
ago  she  gave  me  the  tip,  bargained  for  the  re- 
ward—  lovely  sort  of  a  woman,  ain't  she? — and 
agreed  to  deliver  him  up  on  his  next  visit.  She 

[338] 


EXTERMINATING    THE    GANG 

has  hidden  him  many  times  and  nobody  suspected 
her.  That  accounts  for  our  losing  the  trail  so 
mysteriously  when  we  thought  we  were  close 
upon  him ;  but  you  bet  he  is  pretty  near  the  end 
of  his  rope.  As  I  thought,  after  you  jumped 
him  in  the  canyon  and  he  got  away,  he  made  a 
straight  break  for  the  Ohio  House  and  reached 
there  last  night.  She  sent  in  a  messenger  with 
the  agreed  word,  and  I  will  take  a  couple  of 
deputies  and  go  after  him  in  the  morning.  I 
thought  you  might  like  to  go  along  just  to  see 
the  fun.  You  needn't  take  a  hand  unless  you 
want  to." 

But  Wakefield  did  want  to.  He  had  suffered 
no  remorse  for  his  recent  action  and  was  eager 
to  carry  his  revenge  to  the  bitter  end;  indeed, 
he  chafed  at  the  delay  involved  in  the  proposed 
wait  until  the  next  morning.  But  the  sheriff 
was  cool-headed  and  insisted  that  there  was  no 
risk  in  postponing  the  raid. 

At  the  appointed  time  the  sheriff,  with  Wake- 
field  and  three  deputies,  started  for  the  place. 
It  was  agreed  on  the  road  that  he  and  two  of 
his  men  should  enter  by  the  front  door,  ascertain 
Bell's  whereabouts,  go  to  his  room  and  demand 
his  surrender,  while  Wakefield  and  the  other 

[339] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

man  would  guard  the  rear  of  the  house  and  cut 
off  escape  in  that  direction.  This  plan  was  ad- 
hered to;  the  woman  pointed  out  the  location, 
and  the  sheriff  pounded  on  the  door  and  de- 
manded admission.  No  doubt  Bell  realized  the 
trap  that  had  been  set  for  him ;  instead  of  opening 
the  door  he  threw  up  the  window  and,  a  revolver 
in  each  hand,  sprang  out  on  the  roof  of  the  porch. 
Wakefield,  who  was  posted  underneath,  recog- 
nized him  as  the  man  who  had  escaped  him  in  the 
canyon,  raised  his  pistol  and  fired  simultaneously 
with  Bell.  Wakefield  felt  the  breath  knocked 
out  of  him  and  realized  that  he  had  been  shot, 
but  he  recovered  in  time  to  see  the  robber,  sway- 
ing and  staggering,  pitch  forward  and  tumble 
off  the  roof  to  the  ground.  The  ball  from  Wake- 
field's  revolver  had  pierced  his  heart,  and  his 
career  was  ended.  By  a  miracle  Wakefield  had 
escaped  serious  injury.  The  bullet  had  sped 
accurately,  but  striking  the  steel  buckle  of  his 
belt,  had  been  deflected,  and  piercing  his  skin,  had 
inflicted  a  mere  surface  wound,  a  scratch  that  was 
of  no  consequence.  The  details  of  the  pursuit 
and  extermination  of  the  gang  was  a  nine  days' 
wonder  and  then  forgotten.  Bell's  paramour, 
execrated  and  despised  by  everybody  cognizant 

[340] 


EXTERMINATING    THE    GANG 

of  her  treachery,  sold  out  the  inn,  collected  her 
reward,  and  disappeared  from  the  country.  The 
Greaser  who  had  been  left  in  the  canyon  was 
brought  to  Marysville  and  recovered  from  his 
hurts,  was  tried,  found  guilty,  and  sentenced  to 
a  long  term  in  State  prison,  which  he  did  not 
serve  out,  being  killed  by  one  of  the  guards  while 
participating  in  a  convict  break  for  liberty. 

With  Bell's  death  Wakefield's  interest  in  the 
matter  ended.  He  resolutely  refused  to  accept 
a  cent  of  the  reward,  or  claim  any  portion  of  the 
money  found  in  the  saddle  bags,  conveying  to  the 
sheriff  title  to  any  interest  he  might  have — .with 
one  exception:  the  horse  he  had  ridden  from  the 
canyon,  a  magnificent  thoroughbred  that  had 
been  in  Bell's  possession,  probably  stolen,  but 
whose  owner  never  turned  up  to  claim  it.  This 
animal  Wakefield  proposed  to  present  to  his 
friend  Mike. 


[341] 


CHAPTER   XXIX 

REUNION  OF  MR.  AND  MRS.   WAKEFIELD 

T  EAVING  Marysville  when  everything  was 
settled,  there  being  no  judicial  notice  taken 
of,  or  judicial  inquiry  made  into,  the  killing  of 
the  robbers,  Wakefield  reclaimed  his  own  horse 
that  he  had  left  at  San  Juan  previous  to  his 
undertaking  and  turned  his  face  toward  The  City 
of  Six.  He  arrived  after  the  New  Year  and 
was  most  heartily  welcomed  by  his  partner.  The 
season  had  been  an  extraordinarily  open  one; 
there  had  been  but  a  light  fall  of  snow,  and 
communication  with  the  neighboring  camps  had 
not  been  cut  off.  He  found  Mike  busy  and  fairly 
cheerful  although  a  trifle  lonesome.  The  good- 
hearted  Irishman  missed  Ranee  and  his  cheery 
ways. 

"We  cud  well  afford  to  maintain  one  gintle- 
man  like  him,  and  a  gintleman  he  was  from  the 
crown  of  his  head  to  the  soles  of  his  feet." 

As  for  Tex,  he  mourned  him  as  David  mourned 
Jonathan. 

"There   was   no   foolishness    about    Tex;   as 

[342] 


A  REUNION 

steady  as  a  rock  and  as  reliable.  I  cud  go  to  bed 
and  slape  aisy  whin  he  was  in  charge,  and  that 's 
more  than  I  Ve  done  since.  I  had  a  letter  from 
him,  or  rather  from  Mrs.  Ruth,  which  by  the  way 
will  interest  ye.  They  are  down  in  the  San 
Ramon  Valley,  where  they  are  bargaining  for 
a  small  farm  of  some  six  thousand  acres — part 
of  a  Spanish  grant,  he  says.  They  are  stopping 
at  Don  Pedraza's  casa;  he 's  the  owner.  If  they 
make  the  bargain,  it's  sixty  thousand  dollars 
they  will  pay  for  it  with  the  cattle  thrown  in. 
It 's  miles  and  miles  more  the  Don  has,  and  he 's 
disposing  of  this  small  piece  for  to  have  a  trifle 
of  spinding  money.  Your  wife  is  wid  them,  but 
mighty  anxious  about  yersilf;  it's  news  she  is 
wanting  of  ye,  which  I  expect  she  has  by  this 
time,  for  the  papers  are  full  of  yer  exploits." 

Wakefield  winced  a  little  at  this ;  truth  to  tell, 
he  was  as  anxious  to  hear  from  her  as  she  from 
him.  He  had  had  plenty  of  time  for  a  searching 
analysis  of  his  feelings  and  found  that  he  could 
pity  and  pardon.  His  heart  yearned  for  his  mate 
and  he  was  willing  to  pave  the  way  for  a  reunion, 
which  he  did  that  very  night  by  the  despatch  of 
a  long  letter,  in  which  he  touched  lightly  on  his 
recent  adventures,  indulged  in  no  upbraiding, 

[343] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

and  dwelt  particularly  on  the  daughter  and  her 
future:  nothing  must  be  allowed  to  cloud  her 
happiness,  not  even  a  suspicion  of  an  estrange- 
ment between  the  parents.  With  this  peace 
offering  made  he  relieved  his  mind  of  the  sense 
of  an  injustice  and  opened  the  door  for  a  better 
understanding. 

Mike  was  not  to  be  denied  a  full  relation  of 
his  partner's  adventures,  which  Wakefield  rather 
modestly  imparted,  smiling  at  Mike's  comment. 

"It's  not  brave  at  all,  it's  just  foolhardy  ye 
were,  and  there  was  no  call  for  it  —  hunting  down 
thaves  and  robbers  when  it  is  better  ye  would  be 
giving  a  helping  hand  to  yer  pard!  Av  coorse, 
barring  the  horse, — which  is  a  foine  baste  and  a 
valuable  one,  seeing  it  cost  four  min's  lives  for  to 
procure  it, —  I  see  no  merit  in  what  ye  've  done, 
depriving  the  sheriff  of  all  the  glory  and  giving 
him  all  the  money.  It 's  a  gardeen  ye  want,  and 
I  'm  thinking  I  '11  appoint  mesilf  to  the  place." 

Wakefield  took  Mike's  chaffing  without  of- 
fence and  confessed  that  he  was  tired  of  adven- 
tures and  quite  willing  to  substitute  himself  in 
the  place  of  Tex  and  make  up  for  his  defection. 

"  Now  it 's  a  streak  of  sinse  ye  have.  The  ould 
mine  ain't  a-going  to  last  always,  and  it's  the 

[344] 


A  REUNION 

dollars  you  will  be  wanting  for  the  grandchildren. 
Besides,  there  is  Ranee  a-travelling,  which  is  ex- 
pinsive,  and  he'll  be  nading  some  of  the  divi- 
dends, to  say  nothing  of  Tex,  who  when  he  gets 
his  ranch  will  be  buying  blooded  bulls  and  cows 
to  improve  his  stock.  As  for  mesilf ,  it 's  a  miner 
I  am  and  it 's  a  miner  I  will  be  to  the  end  of  it, 
but  I  '11  not  go  broke  unless  the  bottom  drops  out 
of  the  worrld.  I  have  me  nest  egg  put  away 
where  it  won't  rust." 

Mike  fell  into  a  reflective  mood  and  held  his 
peace  for  a  time,  while  Wakefield  gazed  at  the 
bright  fire  that  sparkled  in  the  fireplace,  watched 
the  flames  leap  up  the  chimney,  and  fell  musing 
over  all  that  had  happened  since  they  had  climbed 
the  trail  and  found  their  fortune  in  the  old  chan- 
nel. Their  few  thousands  had  increased  until 
they  were  comparatively  rich  men,  and  yet  he 
felt  that  he  had  paid  a  heavy  toll  for  it.  At 
least,  the  strenuous  part  of  it  was  over.  Thence- 
forth he  would  plod  along  as  of  old  and  trust 
to  Providence  to  set  things  right.  As  he  looked 
out  into  the  dusk  after  bidding  his  trusty  partner 
good-night  and  saw  the  moon  at  its  full  rising 
over  the  eastern  ridge,  memory  cast  back  to  an 
evening  when,  standing  at  the  door,  he  had  seen 

[345] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

the  crescent  hanging  in  the  west,  and  there  had 
come  to  him  the  sense  of  the  mystery  of  things, 
of  something  above  and  beyond  his  comprehen- 
sion, a  feeling  that  had  stirred  him  to  the  depths 
and  started  him  on  the  road  to  an  unbalanced 
mind.  Now  it  was  not  "Dido  standing  on  the 
wild  sea  banks,"  or  "Troilus  sighing  his  heart  to 
Cressid";  no,  his  thoughts  went  to  a  peaceful 
valley  where,  perhaps,  a  lonely  woman  "waft  her 
love  to  come  again  to  Carthage." 

Through  the  winter,  which  was  a  mild  one,  the 
mine  continued  its  uninterrupted  yield,  although 
both  Mike  and  Wakefield  knew  that  a  few 
months  more  would  see  the  end  of  it  unless,  which 
was  unlikely,  the  channel  turned  on  its  course 
and  ran  into  the  mountain.  Still,  they  had  no 
reason  to  complain.  From  the  beginning  of 
operations  in  the  Winter  of  '52  to  the  opening  of 
Spring  in  '54,  after  paying  all  expenses  each 
partner  had  over  seventy  thousand  dollars  to  his 
credit,  and  with  six  months  more  before  it  was 
worked  out  there  would  be  a  further  dividend  of 
fifteen  thousand  dollars  each.  This  sum  judi- 
ciously invested  would  be  enough  to  keep  the  wolf 
from  the  door.  Then  there  was  the  chance  of 
striking  gold  in  the  mine  over  at  Hepsidam,  the 

[346] 


A  REUNION 

property  the  partners  had  jointly  bought  from 
Phillips  and  on  which  they  were  vigorously  driv- 
ing the  bedrock  tunnel  toward  the  supposed 
channel. 

The  responsibilities  that  Wakefield  shared  with 
Mike  in  the  joint  management  acted  as  a  sedative 
to  his  nerves,  and  the  mountains  as  a  tonic  to  his 
overwrought  brain.  He  was  no  longer  moody, 
erratic,  or  despondent,  and  it  was  not  long  before 
he  began  to  plan  for  the  future.  And  his  plans 
were  not  selfish;  they  embraced  the  welfare  of 
another  as  well.  Wakefield's  thoughts  went  back 
to  his  younger  days,  when  he  toiled  on  the  farm, 
or  worked  in  the  village,  and  when  his  ambitions 
did  not  extend  beyond  the  county  horizon.  He 
had  won  the  belle  of  the  town,  had  settled  down 
to  the  narrow  existence  his  environment  made  a 
necessity,  and,  as  he  looked  back,  had  found  con- 
tentment and  a  fair  measure  of  happiness.  She 
had  been  in  all  ways  his  helpmeet,  and  discord 
had  not  dwelt  under  their  roof.  It  was  only  when 
he  had  gone  out  into  the  big  world  that  calamity 
followed  prosperity.  Now  he  was  lonely  and 
longed  for  his  old  home  life.  Perhaps  the  long- 
ing was  due  to  his  now  regular  correspondence 
with  his  wife  and  the  fact  that  both  had  fallen 

[347] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

into  the  habit  of  exchanging  news  and  confi- 
dences, and  it  seemed  as  if  each  was  seeking 
reconciliation  and  a  reestablishment  of  the  old 
relations. 

Letters  from  Dot  were  frequent  and  brimful 
of  the  joy  of  life.  A  severe  critic  might  have 
objected  to  the  fact  that  the  greater  portion  of 
them  was  given  over  to  eulogies  of  Ranee,  who 
from  her  point  of  view  was  a  special  creation, 
a  man  in  whom  she  could  discover  no  faults,  and 
who,  it  seemed  from  her  words,  had  no  other  mis- 
sion than  to  make  her  happy. 

"Niver  mind  her,  she'll  wake  up  from  the 
drame  one  of  these  days,"  commented  Mike  after 
listening  to  several  extracts  exalting  her  husband, 
"and  find  him  a  man  just  like  the  rist  of  us. 
He's  a  lazy  devil."  Here  Mike  abandoned  his 
cynical  attitude.  "  Why  should  n't  he  be  ?  "He 's 
a  capitalist  the  same  as  the  rist  of  us,  and  he 
was  n't  born  for  worrk.  I  could  n't  like  him  better 
if  he  was  me  own.  I  wish  he  was  back,  for  I  long 
for  a  sight  of  him  and  his  purty  wife." 

That  event  was  not  very  far  off.  They  had 
spent  the  winter  at  the  old  Mississippi  home,  were 
going  to  visit  Washington  and  New  York,  return 


[348] 


A  REUNION 

to  California,  and  in  a  month  they  would  arrive 
at  San  Francisco. 

Tex  had  been  heard  from  by  proxy.  Ruth 
had  written  frequently,  one  particular  epistle  to 
Wakefield  upbraiding  him  for  his  quixotic  ex- 
ploits in  thief-catching,  and  another  of  advice  and 
entreaty  to  visit  them  in  their  new  home,  of  which 
his  wife  was  a  part.  Tex  had  carried  out  his 
plans  and  bought  his  cattle  ranch — a  princi- 
pality according  to  her  description, —  and  was 
devoting  himself  to  rounding  up  the  stock,  riding 
fiery  mustangs  over  the  country  from  morning 
till  night,  accompanied  by  a  lot  of  "shiftless" 
Mexicans,  who  had  transferred  their  allegiance 
and  services  to  the  new  proprietor.  She  was  sure 
he  would  be  brought  home  some  day  with  a 
broken  neck  or  be  trampled  to  death  by  the  wild 
cattle  that  roamed  over  their  possessions.  As  for 
herself,  she  was  mistress  of  a  household  thai 
nearly  drove  her  to  distraction — lazy,  incompe- 
tent, trifling  hussies,  who  rebelled  at  the  Sefiora 
interesting  herself  in  household  cares  and  ex- 
pected her  to  live  a  life  of  dignified  ease  and 
luxury.  She  confessed,  this  was  not  altogether 
distasteful;  on  the  contrary,  she  found  herself 


[349] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

yielding  to  the  atmosphere  of  idleness  and  falling 
into  the  pleasant  ways  of  Spanish  habits  and 
customs.  Mrs.  Wakefield  was  a  permar  -it 
guest,  and  they  had  struck  up  a  close  friend  '  np. 
The  visitor  was  restored  to  perfect  bodily  health, 
but  was  at  times  somewhat  depressed  in  spirits. 
However,  the  frequent  letters  from  her  husband 
were  having  an  excellent  effect. 

Dot  had  written  that  she  and  Ranee  would  re- 
turn early  in  June,  and  Ruth  proposed  that  the 
event  should  be  celebrated  by  a  reunion  at  the 
ranch  of  all  the  partners.  They  could  do  no  less 
than  greet  the  wanderers  by  their  presence.  Of 
course,  Wakefield  could  not  refuse,  and  this  was 
especially  meant  for  the  benefit  of  Mr.  Donovan, 
who,  Ruth  said,  had  not  had  a  holiday  since  the 
mine  was  discovered. 

"I'm  persuaded  to  go,"  intimated  Mike,  when 
the  invitation  was  received.  "It's  full  of  curi- 
osity I  am  to  see  Tex  wid  the  matrimonial  yoke 
on  his  shoulders.  In  me  opinion,  'twas  a  lucky 
day  for  him  whin  the  widdy  made  up  her  mind 
that  'twas  her  duty  to  look  after  him.  She  is 
a  woman  of  sinse  and  judgment,  to  say  nothing 
of  her  capabilities  as  a  cook.  I  can't  consave  of 
her  lading  an  idle  life,  for  she  looked  on  it  as  a 
deadly  sin.  Maybe  marriage  has  given  her  abso- 

[350] 


A  REUNION 

lution.  I  '11  see  the  truth  of  it  wid  me  own  eyes. 
We'll  take  the  risk  of  the  foreman  running 
things  for  a  couple  of  weeks,  if  you're  agreed, 
av  make  the  trip." 

Wakefield  was  agreed  and  more  than  pleased 
that  Mike  would  accompany  him.  The  return 
of  Ranee  and  Dot,  both  dear  to  him,  would  be 
a  propitious  time  for  a  meeting  with  his  wife,  and 
softened  by  absence  and  chastened  by  his  experi- 
ences, he  was  prepared  to  ask  forgiveness,  where 
in  his  wrath  and  resentment  he  had  believed  he 
could  not  extend  it.  So  he  was  glad  when  the 
letter  came  announcing  that  the  absent  ones 
would  sail  from  New  York  on  a  certain  day  and 
that  the  steamer  would  be  due  in  another  week. 

The  affairs  at  the  mine  were  confided  to  the 
foreman,  a  competent  and  trustworthy  miner, 
who  had  been  with  them  almost  from  the  begin- 
ning, and  the  two  started  for  the  coast.  They 
were  well  mounted,  Mike  riding  the  Tom  Bell 
horse  which  his  partner  had  given  him,  and  in 
four  days  they  covered  the  distance,  some  one 
hundred  and  sixty  miles,  and  rode  up  to  the 
hacienda. 

What  a  welcome  they  received!  Mike  was 
overwhelmed  with  the  sincerity  and  heartiness  of 
the  greetings;  and  when  Ruth,  who  had  picked 

[351] 


THE       CITY        OF        SIX 

up  a  smattering  of  Spanish,  said,  feEsta  casa  es 
de  V."  and  Tex  explained  that  it  meant  that  the 
house  was  his,  he  felt  that  it  was  more  than  the 
stereotyped  phrase  of  the  hospitable  Spaniard 
from  whom  it  was  borrowed ;  it  was  genuine,  and 
the  place  was  at  his  disposal.  Wakefield  wrung 
the  big  hand  of  Tex  in  a  fraternal  clasp,  beamed 
upon  Mrs.  Ruth,  and  turned  expectantly  toward 
another,  the  magnet  which  had  drawn  him  away 
from  the  mountains.  She  stood  waiting  for  that 
look,  which  dwelt  fondly  and  anxiously  on  her, 
and  in  it  read  the  verdict  that  she  had  awaited. 
In  another  moment  she  was  in  his  arms,  and  in 
the  strong  embrace  she  knew  that  the  old  affec- 
tion and  love  were  once  more  hers.  It  was  recon- 
ciliation, forgiveness,  and  a  bracing  up  of  the 
bonds  that  had  been  loosened  for  a  time.  And 
then  they  withdrew  to  the  house,  where  they  could 
be  alone  with  their  restored  happiness  to  reap- 
pear some  time  later,  sedate  perhaps,  but  beam- 
ing with  joy  and  gladness. 

Tex,  among  his  old  friends,  was  as  happy  as 
a  schoolboy,  and  Ruth  fluttered  from  one  to  an- 
other, with  an  occasional  dash  to  the  interior  to 
superintend  the  bountiful  feast  she  had  had  pre- 
pared for  her  guests. 

[352] 


HALCYON    DAYS 

bustle  and  excitement  of  the  arrival  be- 
ing over,  and  the  dust  of  the  long  ride  being 
removed,  they  flung  themselves  into  the  big 
chairs,  which  invited  relaxation,  and  grouped  on 
the  veranda  of  the  mansion.  Confronting  them 
was  a  panorama  of  pastoral  beauty.  Enclosed 
between  hills  of  a  moderate  altitude,  the  valley 
stretched  away  to  the  north,  gradually  widening 
out  to  a  breadth  of  a  mile  or  more  and  then  as 
gradually  narrowing  to  the  outlet  through  the 
range.  The  rolling  slopes,  yellow  in  the  June 
sun,  were  covered  with  a  heavy  growth  of  wild 
oats  indigenous  to  the  country.  The  hills  and 
the  valley  were  dotted  with  white  and  live  oaks 
whose  dark  green  foliage  contrasted  with  the 
russet  tints  of  the  grasses.  Through  the  centre 
a  creek  meandered,  its  course  marked  by  syca- 
more, alder,  and  cottonwood  trees  which  over- 
shadowed still  pools  and  rippling  shallows  and 
invited  a  retreat  from  the  ardent  sun.  Under 
the  oaks  and  along  the  stream  a  thousand  cattle 

[353] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

gathered,  formidable  long-horned  beasts,  fat  and 
sleek  in  the  midst  of  never-failing  feed,  and  over 
it  all  hung  a  soft  haze,  the  tangible  sign  of  the 
heated  air — hot  but  not  oppressive,  that  climatic 
condition  that  is  the  charm  of  the  coast  valleys 
of  California. 

"What  do  you  think  of  it?"  asked  Tex,  look- 
ing out  over  the  prospect  with  a  self -satisfied  air. 
"The  old  Don  called  it  'Rancho  de  la  Paz,'  which 
means  '  Peaceful  Ranch, '  and  Ruth  and  I  agreed 
that  it  could  not  be  better  named.  There  are 
about  twenty  thousand  acres  in  the  valley  alto- 
gether, and  I  have  bought  nearly  a  third;  by 
rights  I  ought  to  own  it  all,  but  that 's  beyond 
my  means  at  present.  We  will  take  a  ride  over 
it  to-morrow  when  you  are  rested." 

"To-morrow,  is  it?"  retorted  Mike.  "Do  you 
take  me  for  leather?  Sore  and  stiff  I  am  wid 
me  trip  from  The  City  of  Six ;  four  days  in  the 
saddle,  and  me  not  used  to  it.  If  you  plaze,  we 
will  take  no  ride  to-morrow,  or  the  day  after. 
I'll  walk  it  wid  ye,  but  ride  I'll  not  unless  ye 
substitute  a  pillow  for  a  saddle." 

"You'll  think  better  of  it  in  the  morning," 
laughed  Tex;  "walking  is  unknown  in  this 


[354] 


HALCYON  DAYS 

country ;  even  the  cattle  would  resent  it,  and  you 
would  not  be  safe  except  you  were  mounted." 

Mike's  grumbling  was  stopped  by  the  appear- 
ance of  a  black-haired,  olive-colored  muchacha 
who  invited  them  to  "Famos  a  comer"  and  the 
party  adjourned  to  the  dining-room,  where  a 
bountiful  spread  was  waiting.  Ruth's  attempted 
apologies  for  certain  deficiencies  were  scoffed  at. 
There  was  that  quaint  flavor  and  strangeness  to 
the  dishes  that  appealed  to  their  palates,  and  the 
newcomers  agreed  that  it  was  a  grateful 
change  from  the  stereotyped  boarding-house  fare 
as  furnished  by  the  accomplished  Tong.  The 
crisp  tortillas;  the  savory  jerked  beef  estofado 
spiced  with  pimientos;  the  enchiladas,  wrapped 
in  corn  husks;  the  mixture  of  frijoles  and  rice; 
the  dulces  and  the  native  wine  and  fragrant  coffee 
were  a  revelation  to  the  guests,  although  Ruth 
sniffed  and  declared  that  her  handmaids  were 
heathen  whom  she  hoped  to  train  to  better 
methods. 

"To  think  of  it,"  she  exclaimed,  "with  hun- 
dreds of  cows  roaming  about,  not  a  pint  of  milk 
or  a  pound  of  butter  on  the  place,  not  even  a 
kitchen  garden  or  a  vegetable.  They  fry  every- 


[355] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

thing  in  oil  and  never  heard  of  a  pie ;  and  if  you 
want  fresh  meat  they  just  lasso  a  steer  and  kill 
it;  not  that  there  is  any  waste  in  that,  for  there 
is  a  lazy  tribe  infesting  the  ranch  that  would 
breed  a  famine,  and  they  don't  do  enough  work 
to  pay  for  their  keep." 

At  this  Tex  chuckled. 

"Tell  them  about  your  maids,"  he  said;  and 
the  little  woman  laughed  as  she  named  Celestina, 
Panchita,  Juanita,  and  Anita.  "Would  you  be- 
lieve it,"  she  said,  "they  think  that  for  the  Senora, 
as  they  call  me,  to  lift  her  finger  to  help  herself 
is  degrading?  No  lady  can  comb  her  hair,  put 
on  her  shoes,  make  up  her  own  bed,  or  do  any- 
thing else  but  sit  around  in  a  rocking-chair  and 
see  things  go  by  sixes  and  sevens ;  and  Tex  says 
I  must  not  fly  in  the  face  of  the  customs  of  the 
country,  or  they  will  suspect  that  we  are  genie 
ordinaria" 

"Yes,  and  that  ain't  the  worst  of  it;  she  is 
getting  so  she  likes  it,"  retorted  Tex.  "This  is 
a  great  place  for  siestas,  which  means  that  you 
just  loaf  around  all  day,  except  in  the  cool  of 
the  mornings  and  evenings." 

Here  Tex  shoved  back  his  chair  from  the  table, 
pulled  a  little  square  of  brown  paper  and  some 

[356] 


HALCYON  DAYS 

tobacco  from  his  pocket  and  proceeded  to  roll 
a  cigarette,  which,  when  done,  he  politely  offered 
to  Mike. 

"And  what  will  I  do  wid  it?"  asked  Mike. 
"Smoke  it,  ye  say?  On  me  word,  I'd  get  more 
satisfaction  from  a  straw.  Wid  the  ladies'  per- 
mission, 1 11  have  an  honest  whiff  from  the  ould 
pipe.  Them  things  are  but  an  aggravation." 

Tex,  a  little  abashed,  apologized  and  explained 
that  it  was  another  custom  to  smoke  the  despised 
article  between  courses  and  then  adjourn  to  the 
veranda  for  a  satisfying  cigar,  which  Mrs.  Ruth 
thought  was  more  aristocratic  than  the  pipe,  and 
so  he  had  discarded  it.  Sending  the  boy  for  a 
box  of  perfectos,  they  returned  once  more  to  the 
broad  piazza,  where  the  evening  was  given  up  to 
the  news  from  The  City  of  Six,  Tex's  invest- 
ments, and  a  hinting  of  some  tentative  plans  that 
he  had  to  submit  to  his  partners. 

The  steamer  was  due  in  a  couple  of  days,  and 
it  was  agreed  that  Wakefield,  Mike,  and  Tex 
should  proceed  to  the  city  to  meet  Ranee  and 
Dot  and  bring  them  at  once  to  the  rancho.  An 
ancient  calesa  was  resurrected,  much  to  Mike's 
gratification,  who  did  not  feel  equal  to  another 
day  on  horseback ;  a  pair  of  half -broken  mustangs 

[357] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

were  hitched  to  it,  and  with  Tex  on  horseback 
the  party  made  their  way  to  Oakland,  where  the 
outfit  was  left  before  crossing  the  Bay. 

The  steamer  arrived  at  the  appointed  time,  and 
the  expected  ones  were  aboard.  Ranee  and  Dot 
met  a  warm  and  loving  welcome.  Ranee  was  de- 
lighted to  be  once  more  with  his  old  friends,  and 
when  he  had  taken  Mike  aside  and  learned  that 
Wakefield  was  in  possession  of  his  normal  facul- 
ties and  that  all  was  well  with  the  rest  of  them, 
he  declared  that  his  cup  of  happiness  was  over- 
flowing. 

''And  Mrs.  Poole,"  interposed  Mike,  "may  I 
inquire  as  to  her  hilth?  I  'd  do  it  personally, 
but  nobody  has  a  chance  wid  her  father  monopo- 
lizing her.  She  do  be  looking  foine.  The  divil 
you  say!"  he  ejaculated.  "It 's  rist  and  quiet  she 
wants,  does  she?  Well,  plenty  of  it  she'll  have 
at  the  Rancho  de  la  Paz."  This  in  reply  to  a 
whispered  communication  from  the  proud  hus- 
band. "That  is  the  name  of  Tex's  new  farm, 
and  so  far  as  I  can  see  there  is  nothing  else  than 
rist  and  quiet  there.  You  may  not  belave  it,  but 
Mrs.  Ruth  hersilf  is  doing  a  bit  of  that  same, 
and  there  will  be  a  pair  of  thim.  Bless  me  soul, 
I  must  be  getting  married  mesilf ;  it 's  contagious 

[358] 


HALCYON  DAYS 

it's  getting,  although — "  (here  Dot  clasped  his 
hand) .  "  Sure  I  look  on  ye  both  as  me  children, 
and  it 's  glad  we  are  to  have  ye  back  wid  us  once 
more."  There  were  a  thousand  questions  to  ask 
and  to  be  answered;  and,  as  Mike  softly  whis- 
pered, "Thank  the  good  God,  there  are  none  of 
them  that  we  cannot  give  a  straight  answer  to." 

The  next  day  they  started  for  the  ranch,  where 
there  was  another  joyful  reunion.  It  needed 
only  this  meeting  of  mother  and  daughter  and 
the  perfect  understanding  that  renewed  their 
mutual  affection  to  bring  to  each  one  of  the  party 
complete  contentment.  There  were  phases  of 
the  tragical  incidents  known  only  to  Ranee  and 
Wakefield,  and  the  former  soon  learned  that 
Wakefield  had  taken  his  wife  to  his  bosom  once 
more.  This  denouement  made  the  situation  an 
easy  one  to  meet,  as  no  explanations  were  de- 
manded or  necessary. 

It  was  a  happy  group  that  gathered  on  the 
veranda  that  evening.  Ranee  was  called  upon 
to  tell  of  their  travels,  and  Dot  described  Ranee's 
visit  to  his  boyhood  home  and  her  days  on  the  old 
plantation,  where  she  was  made  much  of,  not- 
withstanding that  she  was  from  the  North;  of 
the  entreaties  to  stay,  and  of  her  own  and  her 

[359] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

husband's  desire  to  return  to  the  "enchanted 
land,"  as  they  termed  the  foothills.  Tex  told  of 
his  bargaining  for  the  hacienda  and  Ruth's  sur- 
render to  the  effeminate  customs ;  and  then  Mike, 
after  vainly  entreating  Wakefield  to  tell  the  story, 
related  that  hero's  exploits  in  pursuit  of  the  high- 
waymen, every  incident  of  which  he  had  gradually 
and  persistently  wormed  out  of  Wakefield.  For 
the  first  time  the  wife  listened  to  the  details  of 
his  vengeance,  understood  that  he  meant  it  as  the 
vindication  of  his  honor  and  hers,  and  shuddering 
at  the  danger,  yet  rejoicing  over  her  knight 
errant,  her  hand  stole  into  his,  and  with  the  fond 
pressure,  it  seemed  to  her  as  if  peace  and  love 
were  hers. 

Ranee  listened  open-eyed  to  Mike's  graphic 
relation.  To  him  it  was  chivalrous  retribution; 
it  was  more,  it  was  the  curtain  falling  on  the  past 
and  the  beginning  of  a  new  life  for  the  sorely 
afflicted  man. 

The  ensuing  fortnight  were  halcyon  days  for 
them  all.  It  had  dawned  upon  Ruth  that  there 
was  such  a  thing  as  misdirected  energy  in 
the  world,  and  she  had  become  infected  with  the 
atmosphere  of  idleness  that  was  a  heritage  of  the 


[3<SO] 


HALCYON  DAYS 

valley.  There  was  a  good  reason  why  she  should 
relax  her  rigid  ideas  as  to  the  imperative  necessity 
of  constant  expenditure  of  vital  force,  a  reason 
that  impelled  Tex  to  exercise  his  marital  author- 
ity and  insist  upon  a  complete  abnegation  of 
household  cares;  and  Ruth,  who  had  passed  her 
life  waiting  on  and  caring  for  others,  found  it 
pleasant  to  give  herself  up  to  the  care  and  atten- 
tion of  the  Mexican  handmaids,  although  she 
was  conscience-smitten  at  times  over  her  own 
shiftlessness.  Both  the  mother  and  Dot  were 
soon  under  the  same  influence ;  and  the  trio,  who 
had  so  much  in  common,  passed  many  idle  hours 
on  the  broad  piazza,  while  their  husbands  roamed 
the  valley  or  visited  the  neighboring  ranges. 

As  for  the  partners,  they  loafed  over  the 
country,  enjoying  a  pasear  among  the  cattle,  a 
ride  to  Don  Pedraza's  adjoining  broad  acres 
(Mike  had  become  hardened  to  the  saddle),  and 
a  midday  siesta  under  a  branching  tree  by  the  side 
of  a  deep  pool,  where  a  substantial  luncheon,  de- 
spatched by  the  provident  mistress  in  care  of  a 
swarthy  paisano,  had  full  justice  done  it.  Then 
they  grew  meditative  and  reminiscent,  traversing 
their  trials  and  experiences  and  under  the  in- 


[361] 


THE       CITY        OF        SIX 

fluence  of  the  after-luncheon  pipe  or  cigar,  con- 
cluded that,  after  all,  luck  had  been  with  them 
and  they  had  much  to  be  thankful  for. 

It  was  at  one  of  these  noon-day  halts  that  Mike, 
who  had  been  doing  some  deep  thinking  on  the 
subject,  turned  to  Tex  and  said, 

"  It 's  a  pity  ye  only  have  a  paltry  six  thousand 
acres  of  this  valley.  Look  at  it,  it  was  niver 
meant  to  be  divided  up,  and  I  wonder  at  the  old 
Don  letting  go  any  part  of  it.  Why  didn't  ye 
buy  it  all  while  ye  were  about  it?" 

"A  very  good  reason,"  answered  Tex;  "I  did 
not  have  enough  money." 

"Would  he  have  sold  it  all  to  ye  if  ye  had?" 
inquired  Mike. 

"I  think  he  would,"  said  Tex;  "he  has  another 
four  times  as  big  over  in  the  Santa  Clara  Valley, 
besides  three  square  leagues  on  the  San  Joaquin." 

"And  who  lived  in  that  lower  house  bey  ant, 
before  he  sold  his  own  castle  to  you?"  continued 
Mike. 

"His  mayor Aomo,  who  looked  after  all  of  the 
land  in  this  valley,"  replied  Tex. 

"Byes,  listen  to  me,"  exclaimed  Mike.  "  I  'm 
not  saying  that  this  country  is  equal  to  the 
mountains — even  ould  Ireland  can't  bate  thim, 

[362] 


HALCYON     DAYS 

although  I'm  a  traitor  for  hinting  it; — but  if 
the  time  comes  whin  there  is  no  more  goold  there, 
this  would  be  an  illigant  retrate,  a  place  to  take 
life  aisy  if  we  were  so  minded.  Let's  buy  out 
the  ould  Don.  Tex  ought  to  have  all  the  land 
that 's  nixt  to  him  without  limitations." 

Now  both  Wakefield  and  Ranee  had  pondered 
on  just  such  an  acquisition.  Tex  had  convinced 
them  that  he  had  made  an  excellent  investment, 
and  if  they  could  among  them  monopolize  the 
valley  and  hill  ranges,  it  would  be  without  much 
doubt  a  remunerative  purchase.  Then  there  were 
sentimental  reasons.  It  continued  the  association 
and  knit  their  future  fortunes  in  a  common  web. 
The  life  appealed  to  Ranee,  a  country  gentle- 
man, lording  it  over  his  own  broad  domain  with 
the  busy  world  in  near  proximity.  With  Wake- 
field  it  was  returning  to  the  soil  and  a  rest  for 
himself  and  wife,  with  his  loved  ones  close  by; 
and  Tex,  of  course,  was  delighted  with  the 
prospect. 

The  next  day  a  business  interview  was  held 
with  Don  Pedraza,  whom  they  found  willing  to 
part  with  the  grant,  at  his  price.  There  were 
about  sixteen  thousand  acres  besides  Tex's  ranch, 
and  four  thousand  head  of  cattle  and  a  band  of 

[363] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

mustangs, —  a  herd  of  a  couple  of  hundred  head. 
The  Don  was  not  a  hard  bargainer,  cash  appealed 
to  him,  and  the  price,  one  hundred  and  twenty 
thousand  dollars,  was  fixed  and  accepted.  A  trip 
to  San  Francisco,  a  couple  of  days  later,  an 
interview  with  the  lawyers,  and  the  Rancho  de  la 
Paz  passed  into  the  possession  of  the  quartette. 
It  was  agreed  that  Tex  should  assume  the  man- 
agement with  Ranee  as  aid,  and  that  Wakefield 
should  divide  his  time  between  The  City  of  Six 
and  the  valley. 

The  wives  up  to  this  time  had  had  no  inkling 
of  what  was  going  on,  and  it  was  a  great  surprise 
when,  the  night  before  Mike's  return  journey  to 
his  beloved  foothills,  the  news  was  imparted  to 
them.  Needless  to  say  that,  after  a  little  protest 
from  Ruth  at  not  being  taken  into  confidence, 
they  were  more  than  content  with  the  community 
interests  in  view.  It  was  a  principality  in  itself, 
and  nature  had  so  contrived  it  that  it  was  prac- 
tically isolated  from  the  rest  of  the  world  and 
safe  from  intrusion. 

In  the  new  role  of  landed  proprietors,  the 
group  on  the  veranda  that  night  felt  their  added 
importance  as  citizens  of  the  new  commonwealth, 
and,  in  becoming  attached  to  the  soil,  understood 

[364] 


HALCYON  DAYS 

that  hostages  were  being  given  to  fortune.  Mike, 
in  his  newborn  dignity,  discussed  the  future  in  its 
bearings  on  their  acquisition. 

"It's  blooded  stock  we  want,"  he  suggested, 
"and  we  must  improve  the  breed.  Those  cattle 
run  mostly  now  to  horns  and  legs;  it's  a  little 
more  body  they  want." 

Ranee  intimated  that  an  Irish  bull  might  do. 

"None  of  your  joking,"  he  retorted,  "it's 
serious  questions  we  are  debating.  We  will  fince 
the  land  to  kape  our  bastes  from  straying. 
Hivins,  that  manes  sivin  or  eight  miles  of  boards ! 
It 's  a  tract  of  timber  land  ye  '11  want  to  buy  nixt. 
I  per  save  I  must  get  back  to  the  mine  to  provide 
for  the  many  contingencies.  Sure,  it 's  mighty 
good  to  look  out  over  the  land  and  think  you  have 
rights  to  it  that  none  can  deny.  Do  ye  mind, 
byes,  after  we  had  struck  it  up  on  the  mountain, 
the  day  Ranee  climbed  the  Slug  Canyon  trail  — 
sick  and  sore  he  was  wid  a  bullet  just  taken  out 
of  his  lungs, —  how  we  met  that  night  in  the  cabin 
for  to  christen  the  place  wid  an  appropriate 
name?  It  was  the  ould  man  over  there  who  hit 
the  nail  on  the  head  wid  'The  City  of  Six' !  Many 
have  come,  and  many  have  gone;  we  are  siven 
now  instead  of  six,  and  a  prospect  for  more  in 

[365] 


THE        CITY        OF        SIX 

good  time.  There  was  no  better  place,  and  sorry 
I  '11  be  whin  the  time  comes  to  lave  it ;  but,"  wav- 
ing his  hand  toward  the  moon-bathed  hills  and  the 
shadows  athwart  the  vale,  "ye  can't  deny  we  Ve 
all  arrived  at  Peaceful  Valley." 

THE  END 


SEP  07 


DATE  DUE 


PRINTED  IN  U.S.A. 


3  1970  00699  4062 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 

A  A      000270802    2 


CHAUNiCEYL. 
CANFIELD 


